The Shortest Distance Between Two Points (The Thirteenth Dwarf series)
by maisierita
Summary: Part 3 of the series, set before The Thirteenth Dwarf and after Winter. Kili gets tutored in the bow and math, and Fili gets to be both immature and awesome at the same time.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Woot! Another prequel to The Thirteenth Dwarf, set after Winter. The boyz are in their teens, roughly. Not quite a standalone, but not quite a novel. We'll call it a short story. Aaaaaand ... we're off.

* * *

"_The shortest_ _distance between two points is often unbearable." — Charles Bukowski_

* * *

"But a _man_, Thorin. Surely there is some other way."

"There is no other way, Balin, you know it as well as I, and I do not see why you are protesting it with such vigor. Who else would you suggest? Dwalin? I would not command this of him, and I do not think there is gold enough in Erebor to tempt him otherwise."

Fili stopped in his tracks just shy of the creaky floorboard that would undoubtedly give his presence away. It was not uncommon for Thorin and Balin to be holding private discussions (most often concerning Fili's progress in his studies — or lamentable lack thereof), but it was not so often that Fili managed to place himself in a suitable position to overhear. This meant he must rely on Kili for knowledge, for Kili had never outgrown his propensity for eavesdropping. Unfortunately, Kili had grown increasingly reluctant in recent months to pass on what he'd heard. Fili thought that was probably his own fault, for having too often nearly let slip to Thorin something he could only have heard from Kili, who should not have been listening in the first place.

Balin was silent for a moment. "No," he said, "I think there is not enough gold in all the mountains for that. Even after all this time, he has not overcome his discomfort."

"Well," Thorin said. "It is settled, then."

There was a long heavy sigh from Balin. "But a _man_, Thorin."

Thorin grunted. "Yes, a man. And why not? You will happily trade with them in the market, and take their coin as eagerly as any other's."

"It is not taking their coin that bothers me."

Thorin sounded quite exasperated. It gave Fili a start of guilty pleasure to hear that particular tone aimed at someone other than himself. "So you would leave him weaponless then? For that is the only other choice. There is no dwarf in Ered Luin well enough versed in the bow to train him, much less one who would be willing to do so, and I cannot send him away to be tutored elsewhere."

"Strictly speaking," Balin said, sounding quite hesitant, "he need not be trained in a weapon at all."

There was a very long silence. Fili fidgeted. Nothing ever good came of it when Thorin went silent in that particular way. "I respect your counsel," he said, voice very hard and flat, "but as there is no law that forbids the boy to be trained in the use of a weapon, but that he may not use a sword, I shall equip him to defend himself as well as I am able, and the bow is the best for him."

"Aye," Balin said, conceding. "There is no arguing that. Fili is Thror's grandson without a doubt; he will have a great big barrel of a chest when he is full grown, and already he wields two swords more than passably well. But Kili has his sire's build, surely. All arms and legs, it seems. Some days I wonder that he does not trip over himself everywhere he goes."

"He did for quite some time," Thorin said, chuckling. "When he was but 40, and growing so quickly I could hardly keep him in clothing of proper size. But now he is surer of foot than any of us." He sighed. "Perhaps because he dare not risk stumbling into something lest it break. But come. That is settled. For better or worse, Kili shall learn the bow, and I will hear no more complaining from you. Now tell me, what news have you from the East?"

Fili inched backwards step by careful step until he was out of the hallway and back in the parlor. Once there, he banged loudly about a bit, for no other reason than to make it clear that he was doing nothing so dishonorable as sneaking about the hallway eavesdropping. (Because he was far too well-behaved for that, surely!)

The door swung open behind him, and Kili entered from the outside, stripped to the waist and covered in mud. "What are you doing? I could hear you all the way out in the garden. I thought you must have slipped on the rug and broken a bone."

Fili made a rude gesture in Iglishmek, which was not so very satisfying because Kili had never been taught the language, and had only a vague sense of what any of the signs meant. "I'll have you know," he said archly, "I was being loud on purpose."

Kili stared at him blankly for a moment. "Why?" He stayed by the door and began carefully pulling off his muddy boots.

"When I take my boots off in the house," Fili said, eyes narrowed, "you hound me about getting mud all over the floor."

"That is because I am the one who will have to clean it," Kili said, as if it were the most reasonable thing in the world. "I do not mind it half so much when it is my own mud. Why were you being loud on purpose?"

"Oh," Fili said. "So Thorin will know I am here." At Kili's blank look he added, "And then he will know I am not in the hall listening to him speak with Mr. Balin."

"Are they despairing of your maths again?" Kili asked. "Or your history?"

"They were talking about you, as it happens."

Kili went very still, one hand on his left boot, the other braced against the wall. "Why were they — what did they say?"

"I am not so sure I should tell you."

Kili did not respond to this but to frown a little and then start to work off his other boot. Fili frowned had been a time when Kili would not have failed to rise to the bait, but it grew more and more difficult to tempt him, since ... well, since Fili had been left that once as _shemor_, probably. Of course Kili swore he did not blame Fili for what had happened, or resent him or feel at all differently about him in any way whatsoever, but Fili no longer trusted that Kili was not simply saying exactly what is was he thought Fili most wanted to hear.

"Thorin is going to hire you a tutor to instruct you in the bow," Fili said with a sigh when Kili stayed silent.

Kili looked up sharply, startled. "He ... but there is no one who would consent to teach me a weapon."

"No dwarves," Fili agreed. "Not in Ered Luin." Of course there were many dwarves elsewhere in the Blue Hills who were not so fastidious in their adherence to the old ways, and Fili was sure one could be found who was eager enough for coin and careless enough in observance to risk taking on a _khazd khuv_, but Thorin would never hire such a one as that, even for Kili. And making a trip to the Iron Hills — where there were reputedly entire corps of archers, most of whom probably wouldn't care if Kili was a _khazd khuv_ — was equally out of the Thorin spoke fondly of his cousin Dáin, he refused without explanation to entertain any suggestion of visiting the Eastern kingdom. This was an endless source of irritation Fili, who would have liked to meet his father's kin, but he had long since given up arguing it. "Thorin is going to hire a man."

Kili stared at him. "A man?"

"Aye," Fili said cheerfully. "Maybe a hunter, or a ranger! I am told some of them are quite skilled. You cannot be left defenseless, you know. I have told him this many times."

Kili had finished removing his boots and was now working on shimmying out of his filthy, mud-encrusted trousers. "I hope," Fili said, "that you are not going to leave those here. They smell of pig."

"I'm going to wash them," Kili said. "And then later I shall sew them up. The seam is starting to split."

"Oh, good," Fili said. "My green coat needs a button on while you're at it. I wonder if your tutor will come to the house! That should be quite strange, don't you think? To have a man here. Where would he sit? We shall have to buy a special chair. "

"He could sit on the couch," Kili said. He padded across the room holding his stinking trousers away from his body, which was funny because his entire upper body was covered in the same smelly mud, but Fili was considerate enough not to point that out. "Men are not so much bigger than we are. Though," and here he looked dubiously at the ceiling, "he might have to duck to avoid the rafters."

Fili followed Kili into the back room, where Kili dunked his trousers in a basin of water and began to wring them out. "What are men like?" he asked. "I have never met one, only seen them from a distance. Thorin will never let me get too close. Are they very different to dwarves?"

Kili shrugged. "I don't know very many dwarves to compare them to. They are not much like you or Thorin, at least." He wrinkled his nose at the water in the tub, which was already filthy. "They are nice enough, I suppose, though I have mostly seen them in taverns, and then they are drunk, and Thorin tells me I cannot judge them on that. They take their drink poorly, he says. Or we see them in the markets, bargaining. They seem quite cunning then. Thorin says they are ever trying to cheat him, though he knows to expect it and so he raises his prices. I have met some of their maidens. They have no beards at all."

Fili stared at him. "Lasses then, surely."

"I don't think so," Kili said, though he did not sound entirely convinced of this. "Thorin said they were full grown and I should be wary. Sometimes they will give me sweets."

"Sweets!" Fili was positively gleeful. "They seek to tempt your virtue."

Kili made a face. "I am of a size with their youths. They think I am just a child."

"You are hardly more than one," Fili said, just to tease, though Kili was in fact almost of age and already coming into the more solid musculature that would he would carry as an adult. "I'll bet they think you are cute."

Kili grunted and scowled down at the tub full of muddy water, but did not challenge Fili's assessment. "I need to change this out."

"You need," Fili said, "to put some clothing on. You cannot go to the well in just your small clothes."

Kili looked down at himself doubtfully. He was rather spectacularly coated with mud. "I will only get my other trousers filthy, and then I will have nothing to wear."

"Then bathe first."

Kili scowled. "I shall need to bathe later. "

"Yes, two baths in one day. It is a true tragedy." Kili had yet to outgrow his aversion to bathing, though it had at least lessened over time (to Fili's dismay, since it meant one less thing with which he could routinely torment Kili). "You cannot go outside like that. You are no little dwarfling anymore to prance about unclothed. What if someone were to see you? They should think Thorin is not minding you properly."

Kili twisted his mouth, then heaved a sigh in resignation. "Very well, then," he said, and tromped off gloomily to the washroom. It being the middle of the day, there was no water warming, so it promised to be a cold bath. Kili stared at the tub with antipathy before resolutely shrugging out of his small clothes and lowering himself into the tub. His body jerked as he hit the water, and he shuddered once all over before gritting his teeth and picking up the washcloth.

Fili hopped up on the counter, swinging his legs.

"Don't you have some scroll you should be studying?" Kili asked, just the slightest touch of irritation in his tone — all he would ever allow himself, but more than nothing, and immensely satisfying for that.

"No," Fili said. "We have just finished the Second Age and Balin has not brought the scrolls for the start of the Third."

Kili scrubbed at his left arm, which was all over brown. "I feel like I am made of dirt, not stone," he sighed. "What happened in the Second Age? Was that when they woke the Balrog?"

Fili thought for a moment. "I don't think so. There were some wars, of course. Oh! I think mithril was discovered in Moria."

"You think? Haven't you been studying this for weeks now?"

"I have perfected the art of sleeping with my eyes open," Fili said. "Balin does drone on so."

"I think he is a good storyteller," Kili said, sounding a little offended.

"That is only because your experience is so limited," Fili said. "Between Thorin and Balin, Balin is the clear winner, but that is not much of a contest." He swung his feet a back and forth, heels banging into the heavy wooden counter frame. "Your beard is coming in, you know. I thought it might be dirt but it is not coming off in the water."

"I know," Kili said. "Thorin told me I am to start shaving soon. He is going to make me a special blade for it so I do not cut myself."

Fili hummed a bit. His own beard was coming in too, but so lightly that it was hardly visible at all. "It seems a shame," he said. "You are the hairiest dwarfling I know. You could grow the best beard of any of us, I imagine."

Kili shrugged. He was scrubbing his other arm now and looked very strange, one arm pale and pink and the other coated dark brown. "Perhaps I shall, one day."

One day, one day ... Fili was quite tired of hearing all the things Kili would do _one day_. "Well, I think it's a stupid law," he stated boldly. "Who cares if you have a beard or not? Or for that matter, beads in your hair?"

"In olden days, they used to pierce the ears of any _khazd khuv. _Fregrid told me so once."

Fili stopped kicking. He missed Fregrid. Since she had left, the cooks had gotten worse and worse. The latest was unpleasant in manner and often burned the meat. Fili rather loathed him and suspected the feeling was entirely mutual. "You would look quite peculiar with an earring."

"And they would be branded on the wrist," Kili said. He looked at his own wrists speculatively. "I imagine it was very painful. I think having to shave is not so terrible in comparison."

"No," Fili said. "Probably not, though it does seem a lot of bother, even just to keep it short. Thorin is forever having to trim his to keep it neat enough. I think I shall just let mine grow and grow until it reaches the floor, and you shall have to braid it for me so I do not trip over it." He paused and looked at the filthy bath water. "Perhaps you should not have taken a bath after all. You will have to clean out the tub before anyone else can use it."

Kili shrugged as he stepped out of the bath and plucked a towel from the pile. "I should have had to scrub it tomorrow anyway. It is Thursday."

"Yes, but that would have been tomorrow. Now you shall have to clean the tub, refill it, refill the laundry basin and finish cleaning your trousers, and after all that you still shall have to mop the floors."

"And sew a button on your green coat," Kili said blithely. He padded damply to his bedroom. Fili waited outside, for there was hardly enough space in Kili's room for Kili, much less for anyone else. Fili thought perhaps the room had been meant as a storage closet, or a pantry — certainly no one could have intended it for a bedroom, except perhaps for a nursery, and even then it would have been snug. Still, Fili didn't think Kili minded it, for when he was in his room, no one could come in and bother him. There was not space enough for anyone else to fit.

"I do not see how you will get even half of that done before bed," Fili said, leaning against the door frame. "How much water does it take to fill the tub?"

"About 15 buckets to fill it all the way," Kili said. "It is not so bad as you would think. It takes less than half an hour if I work quickly."

"Half an hour!" Fili was astonished. "For every bath?"

"Thorin does not use a full bath," Kili said, "nor do I, usually, so it takes even less time than that."

"Well," Fili said, "it still seems to me that you shall be working for hours yet tonight."

"Undoubtedly. But there shall be no one here to distract me, so it should go quickly." Kili had pulled on his second pair of trousers and an old shirt of Fili's (which was a little too short in the waist and a little too broad in the shoulders) and headed to the back room to begin emptying out the wash basin, careful to spill no water on himself now that he was dry and clean.

"Why shall there be no one here to distract you?" Fili asked.

Kili shot him a very exasperated look. "It is Kings' Day. You cannot have forgotten."

Fili groaned. He had in fact forgotten, or more likely driven it purposefully from his mind.

"Come now," Kili said, looking unduly amused. "It is a feast day. It cannot be so terrible as all that."

"The feast part of it is tolerable," Fili admitted, slumped back against the bench that held all the sundry laundry supplies (of which there were quite a lot, though Fili had no idea what most of them were for). "But they have special ceremonial dishes that I do not especially care for, and wine that must be a thousand years old, that Óin and Glóin dole out as if it is some kind of treasure, when really it is horribly sour and makes me cough. Before the feast starts there are endless speeches, and they are the same every year, and as Thorin's heir I must sit and look terribly interested though it is so dull I think I would prefer cleaning the cesspit."

"You only say that," Kili said, "because you have never cleaned the cesspit."

* * *

The feast was every bit as bad as Fili had feared. Worse, perhaps, for now that he had detailed to Kili all the very many reasons he would be quite miserable, there was no chance that he should be anything but miserable. He could not even sit with his friends: he had to sit at the high table with Thorin and Balin and Dwalin and Óin and Glóin, all the while Albed and Bergin and Bergin's younger sister Kethi were making faces at Glóin poured him an especially big goblet of the horrible wine and he had to drink every drop, so that he felt quite sick to his stomach afterwards. The only part of the feast he truly enjoyed was the dessert (and that less so than usual, on account of the wine), and even that was not sufficient to make up for the tedious hours that preceded its arrival.

Thorin was uncharacteristically giddy on the way home which was no balm to Fili's sour mood. Quite the opposite in fact, as Thorin's glee seemed to increase in inverse proportion to Fili's discontent. "A whole goblet of that terrible wine," he chortled. "I made a wager with Dwalin that you would drink it all. He was certain you would manage to spill it accidentally, but I knew you would be stubborn enough to swallow the full cup."

"Terrible wine ... " Fili said, aghast. His stomach roiled unpleasantly. "You mean you do not like it either?"

Thorin let out a very undignified guffaw. "It is the most loathsome concoction I have ever had the misfortune to taste. Thrór's bane, we called it, when I was young."

Fili stared at him in betrayal. "But then why do you let Glóin serve it?"

"I should like to see you talk him out of it! He has been foisting that potion on us for decades, and his father before first year everyone was quite sure Gróin was trying to poison us, but no one has died of it yet, so perhaps not. Óin assures me that there are only a few dozen casks remaining, so perhaps in a decade or so we will be done." He chuckled at Fili's expression and cuffed him on the ear. "You are lucky in comparison. I have been choking it down since I was a dwarfling."

"As have I!" Fili said indignantly.

"Ah, but I am far older than you. Your mother and Uncle Frerin thought it great sport to empty their goblets into mine when Thráin wasn't looking. I suppose he must have known all along what was happening, but if I would not complain, he would not punish them."

Fili tried to imagine that, with very limited success. He had trouble imagining Thorin as a dwarfling, much less a dwarfling with bothersome younger siblings. "Were they very pesty, then?" he asked, hoping that Thorin's good mood and loosened tongue would get him an answer; generally, Thorin never spoke of his family at all, and Fili had only the vaguest conception of what his mother and uncle had been like, but that they were both of dark hair and light eyes, like Thorin himself.

"Mmmm," Thorin said. "Yes, at times, your mother in particular. She was quite spoiled, in truth; the first daughter of Thrór's line, and not afraid to use that to her every advantage. Frerin and I fared poorly in comparison."

"But," Fili asked carefully, eager to hear whatever Thorin would tell him, but not wanting to push too hard, "did you not resent her for it?"

"Resent her?" Thorin looked quite taken aback at the idea. "No, I spoiled her worse than anyone, I think. I had never expected to have a sister, and was delighted with her." He frowned then, sad for a moment, but in the next instant shook his head as if to clear away the thoughts altogether. "But let us not talk of ghosts on a feast night! I am sure Dís and Frerin are stuffing themselves sick in the Halls, none of Gróin's horrid wine in sight. What did you think of Dwalin's demonstration with the axes?"

That had been quite thrilling, as Fili had been sure at one point that Dwalin was about to lose an ear. He was happy to recount it in detail (as though Thorin had not been there watching for himself, but Thorin seemed perfectly content to listen), and it was a nice change to have Thorin's attention firmly centered on him for the rest of the walk home.

There were no lights on in any of the windows, and the house was quite dark but for the soft glow of the fire seeping out of the cracks in the door and through the parlor curtains. Kili was hunched by the fireplace, poring over something in his hands, though he put it aside quickly when they came in and hurried over to help Thorin with his coat.

"You needn't have stayed up, _nidoy_," Thorin said, shrugging out of the sleeves one by one.

"Oh," Kili said, as he hung the coat neatly on its hook by the door. "The house was very quiet. I did not want to go to sleep."

Thorin chuffed a soft laugh. "Well, we are home now, but I hope the house will be quiet again soon enough. I brought you back a bit of the meat pie I did not finish. You can have it with your breakfast tomorrow."

Kili nodded, surprised. "Thank you, _shemor_. That will be a treat."

"I hope you will enjoy it," Thorin responded. "Now to bed with both of you. The sun will rise just as early tomorrow as it ever does, no matter that we are up so late tonight."

"I will just bank the fire," Kili said. "Happy Kings' Day, _shemor."_

"Happy Kings' Day," Thorin said. Then he nodded to Fili, and headed down the hall to his room.

Fili waited until Thorin had gone before he knelt down to pick up the book Kili had dropped. Thorin may have thought Kili was reluctant to go to sleep in an empty house, but Fili knew better. Kili must certainly have been up to some mischief, though what kind of mischief there could have been in reading a book, he was not sure. Fili had never found any sort of mischief in any book. Then he saw what it was Kili had been reading and his jaw dropped. "This is my maths book," he said, rather incredulously. "We have been gone all evening. You must have finished your chores at least two hours ago. Have you been doing maths all that time?"

"Yes," Kili said. He did not look away from the coals, but his expression was a little guilty. "I found the book in the classroom while I was sweeping. It is very old. You have not been using it."

"I don't mind that you've taken it," Fili said. "I just am finding it difficult to imagine any possible reason you should be studying maths."

"It is interesting," Kili said. He did look at Fili then, a touch of defensiveness in the creases of his forehead. "Why shouldn't I want to learn it?"

"Well," Fili said, a bit confounded at this characterization of maths as _interesting,_ as if there could be any possible enjoyment to be gleaned from adding and subtracting columns of numbers. It was an entirely ludicrous thought. "Because it's _maths_. You should consider yourself lucky to be spared it. I wish I did not have to study it."

Kili frowned a bit. "I suppose when you are king you will have people to do your sums for you, so perhaps you do not really need it."

"Nor do you," Fili said, very sensibly he thought. "What possible use could it be to you when sweeping the floors or doing the laundry?"

Kili was silent for a moment, and then another, and then yet another, for so long Fili began to fear Kili had truly been offended. This was hard to do but not impossible. "One day," Kili said — Fili grimaced — "I shall not be sweeping floors or doing laundry. I shall have to make my own way. I must at least be able to keep track of my own money, or I shall be cheated out of all of it. I have seen it happen." He poked rather viciously at the coals.

"But-" Fili began, and then stopped, flummoxed. This was something he had never really considered, that when Kili's sentence ended, he would leave the household. Of course on reflection it made perfect sense, why _would_ he stay, when he would have spent his entire life tethered to Thorin's side? In fact, he would probably leave Ered Luin entirely, for why would he want to live among people who mistrusted and feared him? Fili did not consider himself the brightest gem in the mine, but he understood well enough that the suspicion and stigma that surrounded Kili would not magically disappear the day his sentence was complete. "Well," he said lamely, "I suppose it will not hurt you to know it." He flipped through the pages. They were filled with his own messy handwriting. "But all the answers have been written in already."

Kili shrugged. "I do not mind. I do not entirely understand all of it. I try to work the answer in my head, and then I look at yours to see if I got it right."

Fili stared at him. "You should not use _my_ answers to check if you have done the problems correctly! If I got more than half of them right, I should be astonished."

Kili stared down at the book, forehead wrinkled. "It is better than having no answers, surely? If half of them are right?"

"No," Fili said, horrified. "I was but a young dwarfling when I did these, and I did not care if I got them right or wrong, so long as I did them quickly. I might even have done some of them wrong on purpose, if I thought I might be able to convince Balin to give up on teaching me maths altogether." He was struck with a vision, quite clear and vivid, of Kili as an adult (with a very handsome beard) trading in the market and losing all his money because he thought 74 minus 28 was 36, as Fili had written right on the very page Kili had marked. "No," he said again, and hugged the book to his chest. "You cannot learn maths from my old books!"

"There are no other books for it," Kili sighed, looking resigned. "But if you really do not want me to do it, I shall not. I suppose it does not much matter. I have very little time to study anyway, with all the outside chores to do. "

"It is not that I don't want you to do it," Fili said. "I do not care if you stay up half the night studying maths by candlelight, if that is what you want to do. But you should not do it from my old books, for all that will happen is you will learn it _wrong_, and that is worse than knowing no maths at all." He thought for a moment. "I shall ask Balin for new books," he said. "If he does not die from the shock of it, I am sure he will be happy to get me some. I will tell him ... I will tell him I wish to study the basics again, so that I may be better prepared for the advanced topics." He paused. "I am supposed to be studying percentages, but I do not really understand them. I think it is turning Balin's beard grey."

"His beard is already grey," Kili said. "It has been grey for as long as I have known him."

"More grey, then," Fili said. "Those coals are well covered. Place the screen back and go to bed. You missed the worst King's Day feast ever. Next year I think I shall stay home with you and we can study maths together."

"It must have been truly horrible, if schoolwork seems the better alternative," Kili said, following Fili down the hall that led to both their rooms. "If Kings' Day feasts are so unpleasant, why does the town host them every year?"

"Apparently," Fili said darkly, "it is to foist off upon us some of the worst wine to ever have been fermented. Next year I shall make sure to bring some back for you."

"If it's all the same," Kili said, "I think I should prefer the meat pie."

* * *

A/N: I must say these are much more fun to write than I imagined they would be, freed from the constraints of following a story someone else has already written. Though of course I know where I need to end up. :)

All comments and reviews are deeply appreciated, even if my reply is horribly late.

Thanks as always to SapphireMusings for the speedy and excellent beta.

P.S. As I told Sapphire, if I were any kind of artist (sadly, I am not), I would draw young Kili covered with mud, leaning against the wall, taking off his boot, while Fili sits there and doesn't lift a single finger to help. Because he totally wouldn't.


	2. Chapter 2

Summary: In which Kili does some mending, Balin is insistent, Fili thinks quickly, and there is an incident that will make some of you unhappy (sorry).

* * *

_As for methods I have sought to give them all the rigour that one requires in geometry, so as never to have recourse to the reasons drawn from the generality of algebra. — Baron Augustin-Louis Cauchy_

* * *

Kili's archery tutor was one of the Dúnedain, a lean, battered man named Fëor, who was a friend of a friend of a friend and somehow distantly related to Arathorn. He laughed freely and loudly, smelt always of smoke, and wore his hair loose like a child. Fili had never seen anyone so tall up close and found it quite disconcerting. Even Thorin, who was quite tall among the dwarves, hardly came up to his mid-chest; the top of Fili's head was just barely level with his stomach.

Fili was not sure he liked Fëor; though he was always friendly, he could be keen and calculating and had a hard flinty look to his eyes that made Fili uneasy.

"He is a ranger," Thorin said, as if that was explanation enough, but Fili did not know very much of rangers at all but the tales his friends told, and they were not so very reliable.

"They live nearly 200 years," Kili whispered to Fili one night, when Fëor had come to report on Kili's progress. Thorin and Fëor were in the parlor, Fëor sprawled over the couch, Thorin sitting regally in the chair by the fire, both drinking wine and smoking. "That is nearly as long as a dwarf. And they have no homeland, but are always traveling. Fëor has bartered with elves, fought goblins and wargs, and once crossed swords with Azog himself!"

"Hmm," was all Fili said to that. "Watch what you're doing. You shall sew that button-hole closed if you are not careful."

Kili startled, and stared down at Thorin's shirt that he was mending, and at the button hole that was in no danger of being accidently sealed. He scowled at Fili, who grinned back unrepentantly. "I just want to make sure Fëor has not filled your mind so full of fantastical tales that you can no longer spare enough attention for your chores. There is still this morning's laundry to do, you know."

"It is already soaking," Kili said. "Including your trousers, which are stained all over with berry juice. What did you do, jump in a vat of blueberries?"

"Oh," Fili said, "we were playing shinty and the ball went into a bush, and it was my turn to get it out. But we won, though, so it was well worth it. It was an excellent match. I scored three goals."

"Is that a lot?" Kili sounded only mildly interested and not especially impressed, which only made sense, as he had never seen a game, but which made boasting to him considerably less fun than it might have been.

"It depends who is guarding," Fili admitted. "But I scored the most goals of anyone so I am well pleased. How are your lessons coming?"

"Well enough, I think," Kili said, holding the shirt up to the light and turning it this way and that. "At least, Fëor says I am doing well."

"You hardly sound convinced," Fili said.

Kili shrugged. He put Thorin's shirt down and picked up a pair of socks and a darning egg and bent his head down to work.

"He does not look to me like the sort to lie," Fili said after a moment.

Kili looked up at that, alarmed. "I did not say he was lying."

"Of course you didn't. But that does not mean you are not thinking it."

"I am not thinking it either. It is just..." He frowned a little. "He tells me all the time how well I am doing, and I cannot be doing so well as all that. I can never hit the center of the target, but he never misses, no matter how far away he stands or how hard the wind is blowing."

"You have only just started. You cannot expect to hit the center of the target except by chance. That does not mean you are not doing well."

"Perhaps. But it is still strange that he would say it so often. Thorin would not."

"You cannot go by Thorin," Fili scoffed. "If you were to shoot an arrow to slay the mightiest of foes, Thorin still would not say you did well! Nor does he treat me any differently. It is not in his nature. He expects only the best, you know, and does not think it worthy of comment when that is what you give him. He will only tell you when you have done something less than perfectly."

"Perhaps that is so," Kili said — _"It is_," Fili muttered — "but it is odd." Then he frowned down at the sock in his hand, poking his finger through three separate holes. "If I did not know any better," he said irritably, "I would think you put these holes in here on purpose. Do you ever trim your toenails?"

"As if I shall discuss my personal grooming with _you_," Fili said, and hauled himself to his feet. "But I expect those socks to be perfect."

* * *

Fili was not sure how long Fëor was to stay, but Bergin told him the ranger had taken a room at the Drunken Goat (the only inn in town with rooms large enough for men) for two months, with the option to stay longer. "He shall train Kili for two months?" Bergin had asked, incredulous. "To what end? It is not like he shall be engaging in battle."

"Two months is not so long to train with a weapon," Fili said. "Even the bow. Hopefully by the end of it Kili shall be able to shoot without risk of mangling his fingers."

There was already no risk of that, but Fili did not feel the need to mention it. There were many in town who were unhappy that Kili was studying any weapon; Fili did not think they needed to know how quickly he had taken to it.

"It's impressive," Fili had overheard Fëor telling Thorin one day when Fili was finishing his schoolwork in the kitchen. "He has an inborn ability with it. And it does not hurt that he is so disciplined. I have never seen a youth less easily distracted."

"I do not think that is his nature," Thorin said a little slowly, "but is a skill he has had to learn."

Fëor had made some sort of noise then, perhaps vaguely disapproving, perhaps not. "I suppose it will serve him well either way," he had said, and then the conversation had turned to other less interesting matters, and Fili had gone back to his percentages.

Balin had been delighted (though shocked) when Fili had requested the maths book, but had quickly procured one. Fili had then passed it on to Kili, who had never had a new book in his life, and treated it with a reverence Fili found almost amusing, given that the book was about arithmetic and dull as could be. When Kili found the time to study, Fili could not imagine; with three or four hours a day of archery practice but no reduction in his chores, Kili was run more ragged than Fili had ever seen him. He was up before the sun and the last in the house to bed. Once or twice Fili had even caught him asleep at his work, though he had not told Thorin about it, but had just banged about a bit so as to startle Kili awake.

Still, Kili must have found time for maths somehow (in the bath? on the toilet? Fili could not guess), for whenever he had finished a page of problems, he would leave it for Fili to check (at Fili's insistence, as part of the deal). Kili was quite a bit more accurate than Fili had ever been ("Because you are older than I was when I learned this," Fili said, to which Kili had replied, "And because I take more care more than you did to get the answers right," which was undoubtedly true). Of course, to check Kili's work required Fili to do the problems himself, which turned out to be far less of a burden than when Balin assigned him schoolwork. And some things Fili had to explain, like how there could be a number less than zero — an idea to which Kili was wholly resistant for several days — and in explaining, Fili found he grew to understand these things better himself.

"Well," Balin said one afternoon, when he had finished checking a page of problems of which Fili had gotten every single one right, _ha!, _"I hardly know what to make of it. I did not think reviewing arithmetic would prove so helpful. Might I see it?"

Fili stopped writing in the middle of a number, pen still poised over the paper. "See what?"

"The maths book," Balin said. "That you asked for, that I brought. I would like to see it."

"Oh," Fili said. "Errr. Why?"

"Because," Balin said in a particularly intractable and unreasonable manner. Then he heaved a thoroughly exasperated sigh. "I would just like to look at it, Fili. You have made such remarkable progress. I shan't grade it, if that is what worries you."

"I am not worried. It is just. Well. I have misplaced it." This seemed entirely plausible, as Fili quite regularly misplaced his books and scrolls, sometimes several times a day.

Balin frowned. "But is that not it on your desk? The green one under your Khuzdul text?"

It was, of course, for Fili had not considered there was any reason he should not keep his schoolbooks all together, and he had not yet checked Kili's latest work. "I-" Fili began, then deflated with a long sigh. "Why yes," he said dully, "I suppose it is."

"Goodness," Balin said as he held his hand out. "You are putting up far too much of a fuss over such a small thing. It cannot be worse than when you did this the first time."

Fili eased the book out of the pile with a vague sense of doom. Balin shook his head in exasperation and nearly snatched the book right out of Fili's hand, then looked it over for a few minutes while Fili fidgeted in his chair, thinking furiously. He was quite sure there was no law against Kili learning maths — most restrictions had to do with weapons and social interaction, and maths fell into neither category; also, probably no one in their right mind would have ever imagined a _khazd khuv_ (or anyone, ever) would want to learn maths _voluntarily_ — and Fili had not exactly lied when he had told Balin he wanted the book for review. But still, Balin was quite funny about Kili, sneakily teaching him to read one day but blathering on to Thorin about the rules the next, and Fili was never sure on which side of any given issue Balin would land.

"Well," Balin said after a few moments of utter silence. "Your math has certainly improved, but your handwriting seems to have taken a surprising turn for the worse." He turned the book around, tapping with his finger at a page covered with Kili's unpracticed, childish scrawl.

"Oh," Fili said. He could not read Balin's expression in the slightest. "I was writing with my left hand, you see."

"Your left hand," Balin repeated evenly. One white eyebrow crept up Balin's wrinkled forehead.

"Yes." Fili held up the hand in question and waggled it back and forth.

"Mmm." Balin flipped a few more pages. "Why were you writing with your left hand?"

"So as to make it stronger to wield a sword, of course," Fili said. Then he added, as if he were quite pleased with himself, "It was my own idea."

"Mmm," Balin hummed again, still flipping pages. "And these check marks?"

"You are always telling me to review my own work, and so I did," Fili said promptly. And then, for good measure, "I did those with my right hand."

"Yes," Balin said. "I can see that." He flipped through the rest of the book, brow puckered, then closed it with great care and handed it back to Fili. He pursed his lips and drummed his fingers on the desk, then said slowly, "I see you have almost reached the end of the book. There are but a few pages left undone. If you think it might be helpful," and now he was speaking very thoughtfully indeed, "I could perhaps bring you another book for review. It has been some time since you studied geometry."

Fili needed no review of geometry. Of all the different sorts of math, it was the only one that had ever made any intuitive sense to him. He opened his mouth to say so, then shut it with a sharp snap when he saw how very carefully Balin was not looking at him. "Oh," he said. And, "Yes." And then, "I suppose a review would be a good idea."

"I think it is a very good idea," said Balin. "Indeed, you have not had a better one for quite some time."

As it was unclear whether this was a compliment or insult, Fili simply nodded, and bent his head back to his books.

* * *

The sun was still high in the sky as Fili walked home, in a very fine mood. He had spent the better part of the day watching over Kethi and Gimli and some of the other younger dwarflings, who were all very impressed with him for being a prince. It made a nice change of pace from his friends, who were very unimpressed with him and in fact made it a point to treat him in as un-princely-like a manner as possible, _"_So you don't go getting too fat of a head for when you are king," Albed said.

Fili did not think that would ever be very much of a problem. After all, Thorin was a king of some sort (not yet crowned, of course, but still a king for all that) and his head was not fat at all. He still had to work to put food on the table, the same as everyone else, and on top of that he had to listen to people argue at him when he wasn't working, and then be very wise and solve their disputes. And afterwards he had to listen to people argue at him some more when they didn't like what he had to say! All in all, Fili found kingship a largely unappealing prospect and was in no rush for it.

But in front of the dwarflings, Fili would pretend to be a grand prince, and would walk with his chin high and order them about while they giggled and bowed and called him _your majesty_. At the end of the day they would have warm milk with a drop of wine and sweet pastries, and pretend they were having a grand feast in the halls of Erebor, with much bowing and scraping and by-your-leaves. Today Kethi had even gifted Fili with a crown that she had crafted herself from bits of wood and metal. It was an ill-fitting, ridiculous thing, but Fili had accepted it gravely and pledged to wear it when he was made king, and Kethi had blushed and curtsied and then gone off giggling for several minutes.

Fili held the crown carefully as he walked, whistling, but his good mood vanished as he entered the front yard. Inside the house there was some great commotion, Alfen the cook shouting in his gravelly voice, and Thorin responding in that tight tone that meant he was trying very hard not to yell but was not going to succeed for much longer.

"I might be crippled!" Alfen spat as Fili rushed in he door. He was cradling his left hand in his right, and there was a horrible odor wafting through the kitchen that was either burnt pork again, or, even less appetizing, burnt dwarf.

"You will not be crippled," Thorin said tightly. "You may be lightly scarred, but that is a risk any cook takes. Hot oil may splatter; it is no different to the danger I face at the forge."

"The difference is that you don't bring _him_ to the forge," Alfen said furiously. He glared at Kili, who was pressed up against the wall, eyes wide but shadowed. "Because he's cursed!"

Thorin breathed in and out a few times. "It has naught to do with that. His presence there would be a distraction."

"So you leave him with me to mind him, to take the risk while you are far away and safe all day!"

"It is not your responsibility to mind him," Thorin said. "You do not have to speak with him at all, as you are well aware."

"But he is in the house, just the same."

"Yes," Thorin said, "as he has been in the house every day since you agreed to come work here. You knew the terms of the arrangement; do not dishonor yourself and claim you did not understand full well the circumstances of your employment."

"I understood it very well, including your responsibility should any misfortune occur," Alfen said angrily. "And now I am burnt, and he is to blame!"

Fili could contain himself no longer. "Was Kili even in the kitchen?"

Thorin glared at him, displeased at the interruption. "Fili, this is none of your concern."

"But was he?" Fili demanded. "Alfen won't have him anywhere near, not even in the same part of the house. Whatever happened could not have been Kili's fault!"

"Fili!" Thorin said, growing angrier still. "Hold your tongue!"

Fili did not listen. He sneered at Alfen. "More likely you were drunk as always, and that is why you burned yourself, but you are too much of a coward to admit it! You are an oaf and a fool and you probably would enjoy having Kili beaten for your clumsiness!"

Alfen roared, "Mind your mouth, you misbegotten whelp, or I will mind it for you!"

After that there was a very loud confused moment that ended with Fili crouched behind a chair and Alfen on the floor, his hand to his mouth, blood trickling between his fingers. "Fili!" Thorin ordered, as furious as Fili had ever seen, "to your room!" He turned then to Alfen and glared. "Gather any of your things you have stored here and go. I will pay you through the end of the week, then you will find employment somewhere other than Ered Luin."

"You cannot force me to leave this town," Alfen said angrily. "It was that cursed _khufud_ who is to blame for all of this!"

"You threatened a prince of Durin's line," Thorin growed, "who is my sister-son. You are lucky I do not banish you from all of the Blue Mountains. Now begone before I decide I am being unduly lenient and seek a harsher punishment." His eyes flickered briefly to the side. "Kili, wait outside for me."

Kili nodded, pale but calm. "Yes, _shemor_."

Thorin then turned his glare to Fili, who had not moved. "To your room, I said."

Fili felt particularly disgruntled. To think that this oaf was to be paid for even one more day, and Kili should be punished when he had almost certainly done nothing wrong at all, and all of this had happened while Fili was off having warm milk and biscuits! "Uncle-"

"To your room, Fili, or Kili shall not be the only one feeling the lash today. Go!"

Fili went, scowling. He threw himself onto his bed, and lay there for a while staring at the crown Kethi had made. A fine prince he was turning out to be, hiding behind chairs, when the threat came from a lout like Alfen, who had probably never even held a sword in his entire misbegotten life!

The front door slammed shut as Alfen left, and then the house was quiet for a long time. A lashing, Thorin had said. Fili thought very hard about anything but lashes, and the time it had fallen to him to use one. It had been better when Kili was younger, and a swat on the bum had been all that was required. Eventually, Kili's footfalls padded slowly down the hall, and Fili leapt from his bed. "Kili! Are you all right?"

Kili shrugged, the tiniest hint of movement of his shoulder. His shirt was open to the waist and his face was rather pale, but mostly he just looked weary. "I am tired. I was out with Fëor for hours this morning, and then when I came back-" He grimaced. "It is not bad. I will be fine by the morning."

"Hmm." Fili said. There was little point in trying to get Kili to admit otherwise, even on such a day as this one, perhaps _especially_ not on such a day. Fili had long since stopped trying. "Where is Thorin? I am expecting a thorough talking-to for my interference, for all the good it did. I might as well have kept my mouth shut."

"If you are to get a talking-to, it shall have to wait until the morning," Kili said. "Thorin has gone to the pub. I do not imagine he will return before late. He was in a foul mood. Have you eaten?"

"Some pastries," Fili said. "Just a few. The sort with the honey and icing ... you have had those, have you not? Thorin will sometimes buy them for my birthday."

"Perhaps," Kili said, though he sounded doubtful. "Come then, I shall get you some dinner. I think there is a bit of stew left over from yesterday, and Alfen made bread this morning before he burned himself."

Fili frowned. "You needn't get me dinner. I am not that hungry, and you should be resting."

"Resting," Kili said, "will not make my back feel any better. I think I should rather be up and about than lying down. Anyway, with Alfen gone, I think I am supposed to make the meals."

"Why should you?" Fili said, following Kili down the hall back to the kitchen. The chair he had hidden behind was still lying on its side. He righted it, scowling.

"Well, who else shall do the cooking?" Kili said sensibly. He began pulling food from the cold box sunk into the kitchen floor, grimacing as he bent down and rose back up. "It shan't be you, certainly, and I do not think Thorin will wish to. I cook for him when we are on the road and there is no inn in which to rent a room for the night. He has not gotten ill yet."

Coming from anyone else, Fili would have sworn that had been a joke, but from Kili it was likely just a simple statement of fact. "He shall need to hire another cook," he said. "It cannot be you, not permanently. You have hardly enough time to do all your chores as it is."

Kili went very quiet for a few minutes, scooping stew into a pan and setting it over the cooking fire to warm, then pulling a loaf of bread from the pantry and cutting several slices of thick bread. "I would have enough time if I were to stop taking lessons with Fëor."

Fili stared at him. "That," he said, "is the stupidest thing I have heard you say yet, and I have heard you say very many stupid things. You should stop learning archery so you might cook for us? When there are dozens of dwarfs we might hire to cook?"

Kili frowned. "Alfen is the sort to tell tales, and Thorin does not think it shall be easy to get another cook willing to work in the house with me here. Perhaps if I went with Thorin to the forge ... but then it should be difficult finding dwarves to work at the forge."

"It was not so hard to find Alfen. He started the day after Nyr left."

"Because Alfen need the money to pay off a debt, or he should have been thrown in prison. And still Thorin needed to pay three extra coppers a week to get him to agree to take the job."

Fili grunted. "He was not worth even a single copper, much less any extra. He was a horrible cook. We are well rid of him. And I am sure Thorin shall not make you give up your lessons, even if it means we must eat bread and cheese and cold meats. Is the stew ready?"

"I thought you said you were not hungry." But Kili took a bowl and heaped a generous portion of stew into it, handing it to Fili along with the bread. "Do you want butter too? It is cold but I can melt some over the fire. It would just take a minute."

"Yes, I think so." A moment later, Kili gave him the melted butter, and then Fili sat and ate for a little while while Kili puttered around the kitchen, emptying the fry pan of oil and scouring it clean. When Fili had finished all of the stew, he pushed the plate away with a grimace. "Do you remember the stews Fregrid would make? They were so tasty, I would eat three bowls even though I was always afraid my stomach would burst, after."

"I remember. Mostly all that was left for me was broth, you ate so much of it! Though the broth was excellent. I would not mind if you were to eat all the rest of this stew and leave none for me."

Fili wrinkled his nose. "You shall have no such luck tonight. I do not think I could force myself to eat one more spoonful. Do you think we might get Fregrid back?"

"From the Iron Hills? That seems unlikely. She has family there, and none left here. And I do not think she would be so keen to return. She fancied Thorin, you know."

Fili gaped. "Fregrid? Fancied Thorin?" It was inconceivable to him that anyone sensible could fancy Thorin, who was so often gruff and irritable and in the habit of sending dwarves to bed with no supper.

Kili nodded, now washing Fili's plate."Oh yes. For many years, with Thorin none the wiser. But then Óin told Thorin — loudly, of course; you know how he shouts. Poor Fregrid was humiliated."

Fili was outraged. "Do you mean to say that we have been suffering the lack of any decent meals for all this time because Óin could not keep his mouth shut?"

"Yes. You must have been out at lessons with Dwalin or you should have heard. Thorin did not know what to say, but that he did not think he was free to court until Erebor was reclaimed. And then that Fregrid had a lovely beard and she certainly should have no trouble finding someone who would enjoy her cooking. She left the very next day."

"Well," Fili said sourly, "I cannot say I will forgive Óin very easily! To think of all the good meals we might have had if only he had been able to hold his tongue. Or if Thorin had been able to use his properly. It is no wonder he is not wed."

Kili looked at him sideways, lips pursed. "I should not let him hear you say that."

"Pfft. He would not care if he did, so long as I was respectful about it." He watched Kili dry dishes for a few moments. "You were not in the kitchen when Alfen burned his hand, were you?"

"No."

"I did not think so." There was no point saying any more than that; Kili did not take well to any suggestion that perhaps he was not to blame for everything that went wrong in the world, even those things that could not possibly be his doing. "Well, I think I shall bathe and practice my fiddle. If Thorin asks you must be sure to tell him I did both of those things!"

Kili nodded. "And shall you read your history as well? Mr. Balin will be by in the morning and shall quiz you on it."

"Oh," Fili said, deflating. "I had forgotten. Yes, I suppose I shall." He sighed. "You are lucky. You must never endure Balin's quizzes."

"Yes," Kili said, voice peculiar, "I suppose I am." He put down the towel and cleared his throat. "I will go check the bath water for you."

"There is no need. I am sure it's fine."

"The fire is surely out. The water will be too cold, but it will not take so long to reheat. You can practice your fiddle while you wait."

"Thank you so much," Fili muttered to Kili's back, "for your generosity." But he went and got his fiddle out all the same.

* * *

A/N: Sorry, sorry, I know some of you will be irritated by the whole incident with Alfen, but it would be dishonest to leave that sort of stuff out. It happened ... it's established back story!

Anyway, I hope you will bear with me. I do not believe there will be any more scenes like that.

Thanks as always to my beta SappireMusings, and to all who take the time to comment. Your thoughts are always inspiring!


	3. Chapter 3

_Now being in such grace and favor by reason I learned him some points of geometry and understanding of the art of mathematics with other things, I pleased him so that what I said he would not contrary. — William Adams_

* * *

The next morning was not entirely pleasant, for Thorin's foul mood had not dissipated, and breakfast was quiet and grim. Kili had prepared eggs and sausage and toast. If they were no better than Alfen's, they were at least no worse, and certainly they were better than Fili's attempts would have been (he thought he could manage toast, probably, but eggs were far beyond him). Kili's movements around the kitchen were slow and stiff and careful, and watching him gave Fili a funny feeling in the pit of his stomach, like when he looked at a still-healing scrape, and so Fili ate very little before escaping to prepare for his lessons.

Afterwards, while Kili was eating his own breakfast — of which there was plenty, for Thorin too had eaten very little — Thorin pulled Fili outside and gave him a blistering lecture, which left him feeling guilty and irritable both. He spent the rest of the morning re-reading the history he had supposedly studied the night before (of which he had retained nothing), but his concentration was so poor that when Balin arrived and began to quiz him, he found he could not even name the Dwarven generals in the Battle of Beleriand. He did not think this was any great loss, as these generals had all been dead for centuries and could hardly care that their names had been forgotten, but Balin seemed unduly annoyed, and a Balin annoyed was a Balin prone to lengthy, boring discourses on whatever topic struck his fancy.

After the third of these, Balin gave Fili a great deal of work to do to catch up to where he ought to have been and left, scowling all the while. Fili stared at his scrolls for a few minutes, but it was so much that he could not even figure out where to start, and so he gave up and wandered to the kitchen to find a snack.

To his surprise, Kili was in the kitchen, sweeping furiously.

"Ought you not to be out with Fëor?" Fili asked, cutting off a large slice of bread from yesterday's loaf, and dousing it liberally with honey. "I saw you off with him but an hour ago."

Kili frowned. "He did not think I was well enough to train today. He could tell as soon as I lifted the bow that my back was causing me discomfort. He brought me back right away." A particularly vigorous swipe of the broom sent dust flying into the air. "He is speaking with Thorin now. He wants to take me away."

Fili went still, a half-chewed bite of bread in his mouth, and stared at Kili, who was sweeping the floor with short, violent strokes. "Take you away where?" he asked, when he had finally swallowed.

"I do not know. He did not tell me. Just … I overheard him telling Thorin."

Take Kili _away_. "But this is your home," Fili said plaintively. "And he is not even a dwarf."

"I suppose he does not think it matters." Kili's hands were gripping the broom handle so tightly, his knuckles had gone white. "Perhaps the rangers are not all men. Perhaps they have dwarves among them. Though if they do I cannot imagine they will be happy to have a _khazd khuv_ among them."

"You cannot … you cannot join the rangers. That is absurd. Perhaps he only means to take you away to train for a little while."

Kili shrugged, but he looked anxious. "I do not know." He looked toward the hallway, as if expecting Fëor to appear at any moment and whisk him away.

Fili looked too, but neither Thorin nor Fëor appeared. "There is no point wondering," he said. "I shall go find out."

"You cannot! They are in Thorin's room with the door closed."

"Then I shall go into the hall very quietly and listen."

A skeptical look flashed quickly across Kili's face, gone almost before it had appeared. Then he said, in a tone that was so accusing as to be very nearly insolent, "You do not know how to be quiet and listen."

"As if you are the only one in this house who can be sneaky," Fili said, offended. "I will have you know that last week I stole a half dozen pastries from the kitchen right out from under Alfen's nose, with him none the wiser."

"Alfen," Kili said, "was so often in his cups that I do not think he would have noticed had you strolled right past him to steal the pastries, and waved at him on the way out."

"You exaggerate," Fili said coldly, "and I am going to go the hall, and you shall not stop me."

Well of course, when put like that, Kili could do nothing but scowl in disapproval and return to his sweeping, which he did with even more vigor than before, his back to Fili.

Fili ignored him and snuck very quietly to the hall and then down toward Thorin's door, carefully avoiding all the creaking floorboards. He would admit, if pressed, that Kili was by far the sneakier one, but Fili could be quiet enough when properly motivated, and he was very motivated now. The thought that Fëor could just come in and … and _take_ Kili away! It was true, Kili was not free as other dwarves, but he still belonged in Ered Luin, or among dwarves at least. It would not be right to take him away and set him among people who were not even of his own kind.

"It is out of the question, Fëor, and no matter how many times you ask, my answer shall be the same." Thorin sounded irritable, though this was hardly unusual.

"You dwarves are stubborner than is good for you. Why would you keep him here in such a state?"

"He will be fine tomorrow."

"I was not talking about his back. I have seen much worse. You are not the first parent to lash a child."

A very cold silence greeted this remark, then Fëor said, "My apologies. I know I should not speak of him thus."

"No. You should not."

"But you are his guardian, his _shem_-whatever you call it."

"_Shemor_."

"Yes. You have some responsibility for him, and you cared enough for him to bring me here to train him. A ranger here among the dwarves. It is call for gossip, at the very least."

"There were no dwarves to do it properly."

Fëor huffed a laugh. "You forget to whom you speak. I have seen you with a bow, Thorin, and you are more than capable of instructing the boy, at least so he should be competent."

"If the bow is to be his only weapon, he will need to be far more than competent."

"You are the only one here who thinks so. You are the only one who thinks past his sentence, to the life he must lead afterwards. Everyone else here fears his very presence."

"Not everyone," Thorin said. He sounded grumpy.

"Most," Fëor replied. "Come, how long did it take you to find a cook willing to work in your house? And now you must find another. "

Thorin gave an irritable grunt as an answer. "You fret about things that are not your concern."

"I am not fretting. I am merely offering you a solution. I mean no disrespect, but I have seen your sort before. Dwarves are not so different to men or elves, no matter that we all pretend so. The boy is a burden to you; you cannot pretend he is not."

"So he may be," Thorin said, "but it is a burden I bear willingly, if not gladly. And I fail to understand why you take such an interest in my troubles. What is he to you?"

"Nothing," Fëor said, "but an opportunity, perhaps."

"He is no slave for sale," Thorin said, his voice gone low and threatening.

"I did not suggest he was," Fëor said, in a calm and soothing manner. "You misinterpret my interest. He will make a fine archer some day, and a loyal follower to anyone who shows him a little kindness. Come, you know it is true. He is of no value to you, but he could be of some worth to me. There are precious few dwarves out in the world."

"Well, you shall have to find your pet dwarf elsewhere. It is not up for debate. Kili shall stay here. If you wish to instill warm feelings in him, you are free to try. I will not begrudge him your attentions. But if you seek to gain his loyalty to further some ends of your own, you will have to do it in the next few weeks, for that is all the rest of the time I have hired you, and I can pay you no longer than that."

Fëor laughed. "Your reputation does not exaggerate your obstinacy, Oakenshield. Very well, I shall not bother you again with this. But come, my afternoon is now unexpectedly free. Tell me, if you would, how came you to know Alathen? I know little of him but would not expect him to associate overmuch with dwarves."

"That," Thorin said, "is a long story, and not one that should be told without ale. We can take luncheon at the pub. I must spend some time at the forge this afternoon anyway."

At that, Fili crept quickly away down the hall, and just in time too, for the door to Thorin's room opened but a moment later.

"We are off to town," Thorin shouted to the house at general, and then his heavy clumping footsteps (and Fëor's still heavier ones) disappeared out the door. Fili did not emerge from his hiding place in the parlor cupboard (a less than ideal hiding place, for he would have no reason for having been inside, had he been discovered) until he was sure there was no chance of Thorin suddenly reappearing. When he did risk coming out, he found Kili standing in the center of the room, looking at the cupboard expectantly.

"Some day," Kili said, "Thorin shall discover you in there and you shall be in tremendous trouble."

"He has not discovered me yet," Fili said. "And he was off to the pub, so there was little reason for him to look in there."

"Had you just sat down in a chair," Kili said, "there would have been no reason for him to suspect you of anything at all. Like as not, he would not even have noticed you."

"Not everyone can be overlooked so easily as you," Fili said tartly, then felt a little bad about it, even when Kili's expression did not change. Perhaps especially because Kili's expression did not change. And too because, between the two of them, Thorin was far more attuned to Kili's presence than Fili's, aware of him at every step, whereas Fili thought he probably held Thorin's attention fully only when he did something wrong. He coughed, embarrassed, and then said, "Well, do you want to know what I learned or not? Of course you do. You must. But I am still hungry. Did you throw out my bread and honey?"

"No," Kili said. "It is exactly as you left it on the table." His voice held the faintest trace of disapproval. "There is sausage left over from breakfast if you want something more substantial. I have not started preparing lunch yet."

"I do not think you shall need to make lunch," Fili said, following Kili back to the kitchen. "Thorin is off to the pub, and then to the forge, and I will be fine with bread and sausage."

Kili nodded. "Then I can catch up on some of the laundry. I was already behind before Alfen left." He sighed. "I almost feel as though I should thank him. I think I shall not be fit enough for Fëor's liking for at least another day, and it will be nice to have the time to get everything done here."

"Thank him," Fili repeated blankly. "For being clumsy enough to burn himself so that you must be punished?"

"When you say it like that, it sounds quite stupid," Kili admitted. "But I shall like having a bit of time to relax, all the same."

Kili's idea of relaxation was apparently getting to do all his chores, which was not at all what Fili would choose to do with his free time, but Fili had long since learned that he and Kili had very little common ground in that area. "So," he said, after he had eaten half his bread and wolfed down a sausage, cold but still delicious, "you have been surprisingly patient by not pestering me." (As if Kili would ever pester anyone about anything.) "So let me set your mind at ease. Thorin was quite firm that Fëor shall not take you away from here. It did not quite come to swords, but it might have, had Fëor continued to push."

"I do not think Thorin would ever lift a sword for me," Kili said. "For you, undoubtedly so. But I am relieved all the same. I thought perhaps …"

Fili frowned at him over another piece of honeyed bread. "Perhaps what?"

"That he might be glad of the chance to be rid of me." Kili did not look at him as he said this, but was busying himself around the kitchen, bending carefully to clean the crumbs that he had swept into a neat little pile. "I think he should be happier if it were just the two of you here."

Fili tried to imagine that for a moment, a house with just him and Thorin. All he could conceive of was that it should be very quiet and very boring. "I think he should be happier if it were just him here," he said. "He is not the sort to marry, you know. I do not think he ever wanted any dwarflings in his household at all, much less two of us. But you are wrong, if you think he should like to get rid of you. He would not even consider it."

"Because he feels obligated," Kili said. "He would not pass the curse on to another. That is all."

"Even so. Anyway, Fëor conceded eventually, and that is the end of that. He is quite impressed with you, you know. He thinks you shall make a very fine archer some day."

"I-" Kili said. "Well, that is a very nice thing for him to say."

"He was not saying it for your benefit, so I am sure he meant it. And that is good! Some day, you shall be an expert archer and I shall be an expert swordsman, and we shall roam Middle Earth and make our fortune together."

Kili stared at him very oddly but said nothing, and Fili eventually rose to his feet to clear his plate. "I suppose," he said, "I must return to my scrolls. They will not grow less for me avoiding them. Unless," he added hopefully, "you have any maths pages for me to review?"

"You must be very desperate for diversion," Kili said, "if checking my maths has appeal. I have only a little. I have had very little time, and I find geometry to be very difficult. I do not understand the point of it. How shall knowing about squares and triangles be of any use?"

"Why, there are squares and triangles everywhere you look!" Fili said. He gestured all around the kitchen. "The table, the chairs, even the walls of this room. Geometry is very important in the mines, to understand where to dig and how to brace the walls, and Thorin must understand it to work in the forge."

"I shall not be working in a mine," Kili said, "nor a forge."

"Well, when you shoot your bow, the path your arrow flies is determined by geometry. I think the world should fall apart if we did not have it."

"I do not think the world shall fall apart if I do not understand triangles," Kili said, staring around the room a little doubtfully, as if eying all the shapes within it. "Does it really matter for using the bow?"

"Aye. And it matters too for swords," Fili said, "for the path circumscribed by the blade is an arc."

Kili was beginning to look a little overwhelmed. "I think I preferred multiplication, all the same."

"That is only because you do not understand it yet," Fili said. "Go get your book, and I shall work through the problems with you."

"But I was to do the laundry," Kili said in a rather plaintive tone.

Fili sighed. "I shall help you with the laundry — no, do not argue, I shall! I can hang sheets to dry as well as you, and that shall give you some time to work on your maths."

"I think I prefer laundry to geometry," Kili grumbled, but he did not protest further when Fili followed him to the back room to help with the sheets. All in all, Fili considered this quite a victory indeed.

* * *

Summer was in full bloom, and all of Ered Luin was in a fine mood preparing for the Midsummer Festival, which was an entire day of feasts and games in the town square.

"Shall you captain our shinty team this year, Fili?" Kethi asked. They were sitting in a circle making daisy chains to festoon across the fences. Fili was not so fond of making daisy chains but he was very fond of the sweets the baker was to give them when they had finished.

"I do not know," Fili said. "Galar is older and stronger than me."

"But he is not a prince," Kethi said.

"I do not think that matters," Fili said. He chewed his tongue as he threaded one daisy to the next. His eyes were starting to hurt from all the squinting. It was a very bright day and he wished they had sat in the shade, but they were surrounded by daisies now and it would take too much effort to move.

"Well, he is not so good a player as you," Kethi said loyally.

Albed snorted. "I would not tell Galar that!"

"I will not," Fili said. "If he wants to captain he is welcome to. Then I shall not be the one to blame if we lose."

Bergin scoffed. "We shall not lose, even with Galar as captain. Fafin's team has lost their guard and batter. It will not even be a challenge. But I have heard there is to be a splendid arms competition this year!"

"There is a splendid arms competition at every festival," Fili said. "Don't you remember? Mr. Dwalin almost lost his ear at the last one."

"Oh, he was in no danger," Albed said. "He just does that so everyone thinks he is quite daring. Mother told me so."

Fili grunted. Albed's mother said very many things, most of which Albed accepted as if they were words from Mahal himself. Personally Fili thought Albed's mother was a bit too fond of the sound of her own voice, and that most of the things she stated as truth were nothing of the sort, but he would never tell Albed so. Having no mother himself, and very little experience with dams in general, he could not claim to be any sort of expert on the subject.

"Shall you compete, Fili?" Kethi asked, wide-eyed.

"In the arms competition?"

"You should!" Bergin said, looking up only from the mess of daisies on his lap, which in no way resembled any sort of chain. "You are of age."

"I am of age," Fili agreed, "but that is just a legality. I am hardly full grown, at least, I should hope I am not! The swords competition shall include sparring as it always does. I do not think I would make very much of a challenge for anyone."

"They ought to have a competition just for the younger dwarves," Albed said. "Those under 60, perhaps. They make you spar often enough for practice; they might as well let you compete."

"You can embarrass yourself if you want to, "Fili said, "but I am no particular rush to compete. I end up with my rear in the dust in front of Dwalin often enough as it is! I need no more humiliation than that."

"You would not end up with your dust in the rear if it were only dwarves under 60," Albed said. "You are the best of all us."

Fili considered this as he threaded another daisy. "That is true," he admitted, "but if I am so much better than the rest, there would be no sport in that, either."

Bergin hummed. "It is too bad there is no archery competition. Your Kili could show off."

Fili stared at him. "What?"

Bergin looked up from his not-a-daisy-chain. "Oh, Father was in the woods trapping and he saw that ranger fellow out with Kili. He has grown quite tall, Father said."

"Yes," Fili said cautiously. "He is of a height with me now. He will be taller than I am in the end, I am sure."

"Well, Father said that the ranger had Kili shooting from a fair distance, and he was very good. Father was very surprised, but mother said Kili is of Iron Hills stock and they breed archers over there like rabbits. Then Father said he didn't think we were permitted to speak of what stock Kili came from and Mother said that was ridiculous because he wasn't born of the stone itself. She said even if he had no mother and father he still had a sire and a dam and anyone could see who his were just by looking at him, and Father said he was sure we were not permitted to speak of that and she should stop before someone overheard. So she did, but she looked very annoyed, and she served the soup so hot for supper than Father burned his mouth, and she said that was an accident but I am not so sure it was." He lowered his voice. "It is not the first time that has happened when she has become irritated with him."

Fili could say nothing at all to this remarkable speech, but sat and gaped at Bergin in silence.

"Your father is very sensible," Albed said primly. "It is forbidden to talk of such things. And you are ridiculous if you think Kili should compete in anything at all._Khazd khuv_ cannot do that sort of thing."

"I do not see why not," Bergin said. "There is no law to prevent him from competing, is there, Fili? Only perhaps he could not join us at the feast afterwards."

"I-" Fili was rather dumbfounded at the turn the conversation had taken. "I do not know. It has never come up."

"Well, I for one should like to see it," Bergin said. "I have never seen anyone shoot a bow at all. The hunters do, of course, but only out in the forest, and Mother and Father will not permit me to attend them. But I think I should like to learn. Perhaps that ranger can teach me when he is done with Kili."

"I think he is leaving in a few days' time," Fili managed, still rather dumbstruck. "I think he should have left already, but he decided to stay for the festival. After that he is to head south to Gondor."

"Oh," Bergin said. "That is a pity." Then he looked down at his lap with a frown. "I have had enough of daisies for today. I say we drop these off with the baker and collect our treats."

There was no dissension, and the rest of the day was spent running off the effects of the jam- filled pastries, with no more talk of Kili or rangers or archery.

But Fili had gotten the idea stuck in his head, and it would not leave. "Uncle," he asked that night as they were eating dinner. "Is there a law against _khazd khuv_ taking part in an arms competition?"

Thorin went still, and slowly lowered his fork to his plate. "Why do you ask?"

"Oh," Fili said, as if it did not matter at all, "some of us were talking today. And I know it is nonsense, but someone said that Kili could compete at archery so long as there was no law against it."

"It is nonsense," Thorin said, "for we do not have enough archers of any skill to host an archery competition." He picked up his fork and began eating again, seemingly content to let the matter drop.

"But if we had one," Fili said, "could Kili compete?"

"Fili." Now Thorin's voice had grown a little sharp. "I do not see the point of this. We have no such competition, and it is unlikely we ever shall."

"But if we did," Fili persisted.

Thorin frowned, and his look at Fili was hard and unforgiving. "If we did, though there is no law against it, Kili would not compete."

This seemed profoundly unfair, even if it would never come to matter. "Why not? He does little enough else for fun, and it would harm no one."

"I would not enter him in a competition only to have everyone else drop out on finding out he was in it. And they would, do not doubt it, for who would risk losing to a _khazd khuv_?"

"Oh," Fii said lowly. "I had not considered that."

"And if he were to enter," Thorin went on, intent and relentless, "what then? Afterwards I should have to bring him home, for he could not stay for the feast and parties, and that, I think, might be even more cruel, for he would see it and know he could not partake of any of it. What he knows of such things right now is only what you tell him, and most of that is complaint, so I do not think he minds very much that he must miss them." He sighed. "It is hard enough for him, trapped in the house all the time. I would not make it worse by letting him see that which he can have no part of. Let him imagine only that it is dull speeches and foul wine. He is no worse off for not knowing better."

Fili had considered none of this either, and it left him feeling rather dispirited, even though he had never really held any expectation of Kili competing or even attending the festival. Still, to hear it laid out so baldly was disheartening, and he only hoped that Kili was far enough away in the house that he would not have overheard any of this conversation, even with his exceptional hearing. But surely he was, for Thorin would never have said such things if there was a chance that Kili would overhear.

"Who put such a notion in your head?" Thorin asked.

"Bergin," Fili said glumly.

Thorin hummed. "His mother is one of Dáin's folk. I am not surprised he would suggest such a thing." He took a long sip of his wine and sat back in his chair, playing idly with his goblet. "I think that is enough heavy talk for one night. I hope you have been practicing your fiddle. I told Glóin you would play tomorrow."

"You what? Uncle!" Fili stared at Thorin, aghast. "I have not prepared anything!"

"Oh, play some little ditty," Thorin said. "I shall bring my harp, and Bofur — have you met the Urs yet? They are recently arrived from the southern settlements — Bofur shall play the flute."

Fili groaned, now looking forward to the festival less than he had been. He excused himself quickly and spent the rest of the night furiously practicing his fiddle, to the point that even Kili began to make a displeased face at hearing the same song for the dozenth time.

"You shall be home alone tomorrow," Fili said sourly, "and then you shall not have to hear me play the fiddle at all. With all that time, I expect you will finish all the rest of the geometry pages you have been avoiding."

Kili scowled. "The weather promises to be fair again, so I shall be tending to the weeds. The garden is getting overgrown."

"And after that you can finish the geometry pages. Come now, Fëor is leaving, so you shall have plenty of time to catch up on your chores. It will not kill you to spend a little time catching up on your maths too."

"I still do not see why I must learn this," Kili said grumpily. "Even if there are shapes all around, it seems to me that knowing what they are should be enough."

"You cannot know now what will come to be important later in life," Fili said, quoting Balin word for word. "If I can do percentages, you can do triangles. I will even bring you home a lemon tart as a reward."

Kili looked torn. He was very fond of lemon tarts, though perhaps not fond enough of them to do geometry. "Very well," he said eventually. He did not look at all happy. "But can we return to regular maths afterward? I should like to learn those percentages you are always complaining about."

Fili laughed. "Do you know," he said, "I think the two of us together should make one very good maths student." With that, he bid Kili good-night, and headed off to bed.

* * *

The next day was long and sunny and glorious, a perfect day for the midsummer festival. Fili's team won the shinty match quite handily (as expected, Fafin's team was no challenge, but Fili still felt he acquitted himself very well, and he had been named captain after all) and the town square was filled with food and drink all day — fresh meat pies and all sorts of sweet tarts and pastries, sweet churned butter and warm milk with cream floating atop, and eggs still warm from the hen.

The fiddle playing was hardly so much of a disaster as Fili had feared, for by the time the instruments came out, most of the dwarves had been at the wine and mead all day, and had nothing but compliments for anyone who was sober enough to so much as produce a single note. And Bofur proved to be an entirely ridiculous sort, with a big droopy mustache and an even bigger droopier hat, and he had no shame at all but danced on the table tops singing songs Fili was only just old enough to hear.

Even the evening's feast was bearable, as Fili now knew he need not drink any of Glóin's horrible wine, so long as he was sneaky enough to get rid of it without anyone seeing, and, properly motivated, he could be very sneaky indeed. He even remembered to pluck a lemon tart off the dessert table, and one with a poppy seed filling that he thought Kili might enjoy too, and walked home in a fine mood, Thorin tipsy and very cheerful at his side.

"I do not think that is an appropriate song," Fili said, after Thorin had belted out one particularly bawdy verse of an old mining chanty.

"You are of age, nephew," Thorin said, slurring a little. He had really had quite a lot to drink. "No need to keep protecting your tender ears."

"Hmm," Fili said. "I shall see if you feel the same in the morning. Here, we are home, let me help you into the house." And so he did, though Thorin was rather heavier than Fili could easily move. For once Kili was not waiting up for them, so Fili had to wrangle Thorin to bed all by himself, which was a bit of a challenge, as Thorin was lurching side to side and at one point he tripped and nearly dragged Fili down to the floor with him. But eventually, Fili had Thorin all tucked away and snoring happily, and he made his own way to bed, stopping only by the kitchen to leave the two pastries (now a little worse for wear) on a plate in the kitchen for Kili's breakfast.

There were no pages of math waiting for him, which was a little surprising. Fili found he was looking forward to hearing the explanation Kili would devise for the lack, likely some home-repair that had suddenly needed urgent doing, and took precedence over Fili's request. Of course, had Thorin ordered Kili to have done his geometry, it would have been done no matter what had broken or caught fire or gotten flooded, but Fili's authority over Kili was much murkier, especially about matters unrelated to the running of the household. Not that Kili would directly disobey a direct order (Fili didn't think), but he was more than capable of worming his way around the indirect ones when he was feeling stubborn.

But then Fili felt a twinge of guilt, for it occurred to him belatedly that this might not be an instance of Kili being stubborn, but just a case of Kili being exhausted. He had agreed to do the geometry, it was true, but only after Fili had insisted and promised him the tart (Fili wished Balin would more often bribe him with treats!). It was very unlike Kili to be abed before Thorin and Fili came home. Even though Thorin always insisted he needn't wait up,Kili almost always did. And Kili had been run ragged these past few months, especially once Alfen left. If he hadn't done his maths it was almost certainly because the promise of a full good night's sleep had proved impossible to resist.

Well, things should settle down quickly, Fili thought sleepily. He turned in bed to get comfortable, already half asleep. Fëor would be gone in a day or two, and Kili's archery lessons would end, and eventually Thorin would find another cook to take Alfen's place, perhaps even one with a more pleasant disposition, and then life could return to normal.

* * *

A/N: Happy Spring (and happy Passover, and happy Easter)! Sorry for the delay on this chapter. My trusty beta SapphireMusings was sidelined by the flu and has been feeling horrible. The next chapter should be up much sooner.


	4. Chapter 4

Summary: In which life does not return to normal.

* * *

"_The book is written in mathematical language, and the symbols are triangles, circles and other geometrical figures, without whose help it is impossible to comprehend a single word of it; without which one wanders in vain through a dark labyrinth." — Galileo Galilei_

* * *

After such a busy day, Fili slept soundly all night, and the sun was already well up in the sky by the time he woke the next morning. He rubbed his eyes, groggy, and stumbled out of bed to the washroom to splash some water on his face. It helped a little, and once he could stop squinting against the sunlight streaming through the curtains, he made his way to the kitchen for breakfast.

Only there was no breakfast waiting for him, not even bread and cheese, which Kili would often leave out if there were no eggs or breakfast meats in the house. Fili blinked a few times at the empty kitchen, not quite sure what to make of it. The plate of pastries he had brought home from the festival was on the kitchen table, untouched and pristine. That too was odd, for surely Kili knew the pastries were for him, at least the lemon tart, and there was no rule against him eating before the rest of the household if he was eating food that had been specifically set aside for him. Though perhaps that he had not eaten already was simply habit, as the occasions he did not need to wait were few and far between. But no, Fili decided, that would not be the reason. It was not forbidden, and Kili would have known it. Maybe, Fili considered, Kili did not take the tart because he had not done the maths, and thought he had not earned it. Well, if so, Fili meant to disabuse him of that notion quickly. It was rare enough that Kili got treats; Fili would not deprive him of this one just because he had been too sleepy to study the rules about triangles.

Or perhaps, Fili then thought, Kili was still abed! It would be very unlike him, but Kili had been asleep before Thorin and Fili had gotten home, and there had been no maths waiting, and those things were unusual enough that surely something must be wrong. Perhaps Kili had fallen ill and was even now lying asleep and feverish in his room. He had gotten the pox that one time before and had been quite ill with it; perhaps he had caught something else from spending so much time with Fëor. Men carried all sorts of diseases, and Kili had already shown himself to be susceptible.

A little nervous now, Fili walked quickly to Kili's room and called for him, knocking softly on the door, then more loudly when there was no answer. When the third knock produced no more result than the first or second, Fili opened the door, convinced he would find Kili a sweaty unconscious lump in the bed, but no. The bed was neatly made as usual, and there was no sign of anything amiss.

Fili frowned, for if Kili were not ill, there was no excuse for him not to have made breakfast, or to not at least have laid out some sort of food, even if he had guessed that Fili and Thorin would both sleep in after their late night. Fili checked the kitchen again (still no sign of Kili) then the rest of the house, though he had already walked through most of it on his way to and from his room to the kitchen and Kili's room.

There was no sign of Kili anywhere in the house at all. Greatly puzzled, Fili concluded he must have started his outside chores, for there was nowhere else he could be. But though their property was not so small, it was also not so very large, and it did not take more than a few minutes of checking to determine that Kili was nowhere to be found outside either. Fili even checked the well, only half seriously at first, except then he had the horrible thought that had Kili gotten tangled in the rope and fallen down the well yesterday, there would have been no one at home to hear him yell for help or give him any assistance, and might be down there still, trapped and injured or even drowned.

After that he checked the well quite thoroughly indeed, but the bucket was safely over the edge and attached to the rope, and try as he might, Fili could think of no way Kili might have fallen into the well, unless he had leaned over into it (to fetch something out?) or someone had pushed him in. Neither of these things seemed very probable, but it also was not very probable that Kili should not be found in the morning. Fili's heart beat quickly in his chest, and he peered into the well for a long time, calling Kili's name. Hearing nothing and seeing nothing but gloom, he threw the bucket into the well and tugged on it a few times to swish it around, but it caught nothing but water nor knocked against anything.

So Kili was not in the well, nor was he in the shed or the garden or the barn or the vegetable patch, but Fili checked all these places again anyway, quite thoroughly too, and then he checked the house again for good measure. "Kili," he said out loud, "if you are playing a trick, it is not a very good one," but he knew it was no trick, for they had outgrown hide and seek years ago. (Fili would sometimes still hide for a little while, just to cause a commotion, but Kili would never dare.)

He checked Kili's room one last time, but it was quite as empty as it had been all the other times, with no sign that Kili had been there. In desperation Fili threw open the doors of the tiny wardrobe — surely Kili was not in _there_ — but there was nothing in the wardrobe that should not be, all of Kili's few possessions (they were not even his, in the strictest sense, but Thorin let him keep them as if they were) tucked neatly away inside, the geometry book lined up neatly with the edges of the shelf. At first this was a great relief, for Fili had half convinced himself he would find Kili's dead body stuffed inside, but then with a prickle of cold apprehension down his spine, he realized that Kili's spare set of trousers were gone, as were his few extra shirts.

Fili stared blankly at the wardrobe for several minutes, trying to understand what it could all mean, Kili missing from the house, no breakfast, no maths, no clothes in the wardrobe. And then with a great trembling dread overtaking him, he ran to Thorin's room and banged on the door just once before skidding inside and shaking Thorin awake.

"Uncle!" he shouted. "Uncle, Kili is gone!"

Thorin was awake in an instant, but his eyes were dazed and it took him a few minutes to really follow what Fili was saying. During all that time Fili was tugging at him, pulling him up and out of bed and into his clothing and out of his room to Kili's.

"Look," Fili said desperately. "He's gone, his clothing is gone, he is _gone_." It was only then that Thorin truly seemed to wake up, and then he did everything Fili had already done, looking in every room in the house ("I have already looked everywhere!" Fili said in exasperation) and then everywhere outside ("I have already looked here too!") and even tossing the bucket down the well the same way Fili had, banging it against the sides with no more result than Fili.

"I told you," Fili said. His heart was leaping unsteadily in his chest, and he could not think of what to do, Kili was gone, _Kili was gone_, "He is not here, Uncle. He is not anywhere!"

Thorin's face was strangely blank. "He must have left the house."

"No," Fili said. That was ridiculous. It was so ridiculous it was not worthy of even a moment's consideration. "He would not leave. He would never leave. He never so much as steps a foot off the property when he is not supposed to. He knows he is not allowed to leave unless he is with you."

"Or someone else whom I have given permission to take him away," Thorin said, his eyes grown suddenly dark and furious.

"But you have not." Except even as Fili said it, he thought of the one person with whom Kili would leave the house, with whom he had been leaving the house quite regularly. "You don't think-"

Thorin was already pulling on his boots. "Run into town as quickly as you can and check with Onar at the Drunken Goat. Fëor was not to have left until tomorrow, but I did not see him at the festival yesterday. Did you?"

"No," Fili said. His heart was still thumping in his chest, and his fingers trembled as he pulled on his own boots. "No. Uncle, you don't think ..."

"I think you are wasting time. Go, Fili, as fast as you can!"

Fili ran out the door as quickly as he could, grateful for once for all the exercises Dwalin insisted he do daily, for he covered the two miles distance to town in little more than twelve minutes, though he was panting and feeling a little sick as he skidded into the inn. "Where is he?" he gasped out. "Where is Fëor?"

"Take a breath, lad," Onar said kindly. "What's all this about then?"

"Fëor," Fili said impatiently. "The ranger. He is staying here."

"Was staying here," Onar corrected. "And a good customer he was too. Paid in advance, washed regularly, kept his hands to himself, and never a complaint about the food or the bed. A more polite man I've never met. I'm sorry to see him go, truth be told."

"But," Fili said, feeling even sicker. "But he was to stay until tomorrow, at least."

"Aye," Onar said, "and he paid for those days, too. But then he decided he could use the extra days for travel. Gondor is a fair distance and he wanted to make sure he arrived before the weather began to turn. He left yesterday morning after breakfast." He frowned then. "Surely he told you this? It was Thorin's coin that was paying for the room."

"I-" Fili said. "No. We didn't … yesterday morning, you said?"

"Packed up his things, hired a pony, and left, just after the festival started."

"He hired a pony? But he had a horse of his own."

"He needed an extra for carrying extra provisions, he said. Paid Fekka a full silver for it, which undoubtedly was more than than the animal was worth." His eyes narrowed. "You're looking awfully pale, Fili. Why don't you sit down? I'll fetch you some milk, and send someone off to get Thorin for you."

"No," Fili said, shaking his head. "No, that's ... I don't need ... thank you, Onar. I have to go."

He ran back home, stopping to see Fekka and confirm that yes, Fëor had purchased a pony. "Daffodil," Fekka said. "A fine mare. Swift and strong. Too good for carrying supplies, I thought, but he wanted a pony that could keep up with his horse, should he need to ride quickly. A shame to see her go, but I'm sure she'll be well looked after in Gondor, and Fëor was willing to pay cash." Fëor had bought her tack, too, "which only makes sense," Fekka said, "for a pony with a saddle is much more use than one without one. She'd be a bit small for him but he could ride her in a pinch. Are you all right, Fili? You're looking pale."

Fili shook his head, meaning either than he was all right or he was not, whatever Fekka chose to believe, and ran back home. He had been gone less than an hour, but there were several ponies tied up to the fence already. Balin was there and Dwalin too, large and imposing even with his nightshirt tucked hastily into his trousers and his eyes still dull from the previous night's revelry. Also Óin and Glóin were there, looking tense and irritable, but also a little wild-eyed and fierce. All of Thorin's closest kin, all those he trusted most, crowded around the table looking at a map, pointing here and there and arguing.

"...said he was headed to Gondor," Thorin was saying when Fili skidded into the kitchen, dragging long heaving breaths into his aching lungs.

"Then Gondor is the one place we can be sure he is not headed," Dwalin said darkly.

"Unless he knew we would think so," Balin said, "in which case he might be headed there after all, thinking we will be looking everywhere else."

Thorin cursed very foully. "He could be headed anywhere. We've no way to know. Fili, what news do you have?"

"He left yesterday morning after breakfast," Fili said, still panting. "He bought a pony from Fekka, and left."

Dwalin crossed his arms and scowled fiercely. "A pony. So he had planned it out then."

"It means nothing," Thorin said, "but that it was not entirely spur of the moment, and I do not think any of us here believe it was that." He glared at the map. "He has a full day on us. Even if we knew where to look, that would be hard to overcome."

"He could not have counted on a full day's lead," Glóin said. "He'd no way of knowing you wouldn't come home last night and find Kili gone and sound the alarm."

"Not counted on a full day, perhaps," Balin said, "but it would not have been unreasonable to hope for it. He knew you would be home late and filled with drink. Anyway, a half day makes it near as difficult as a full one. If Kili is on a pony and riding willingly, they might have covered 50 miles already."

"Riding willingly," Thorin repeated. His voice was very cold. Fili just stared at Balin angrily. It was one thing for Thorin to hint at it in the shock of the moment finding Kili missing; it was quite another for Balin to suggest it as any sort of rational explanation for his absence.

"Aye," Balin said. "I know you would not like to believe Kili would do such a thing voluntarily, but we'd be fools not to consider it."

"Then perhaps I shall be a fool," Thorin said. "Kili knows his place is here, and I will not be convinced that he has chosen to leave it."

Dwalin scowled thunderously."You said Fëor tried to sway you more than once to let him take the lad away. We've no way of way knowing he didn't try the same with the boy himself. He's had his ear for months. He could have promised him anything."

Fili could not contain himself. "You think he would have left us _willingly_? That's ... Kili would never!"

Thorin frowned at him, and Balin reached out to pat him gently on the shoulder. "Fili, I know you would not like to believe such a thing, but we cannot disregard the possibility just because it seems unlikely."

"No," Fili said. "it is not unlikely, it is impossible! He has always been terrified he would be sent away! He would never choose to leave." He turned to Thorin, voice shaking slightly. "For his whole life, since he understood what ... what he was, he has always been afraid that you would give him up, or find another _shemor_ to take him. That is why he has always worked so hard, why he never complains, even when you have to punish him for things he had no hand in. He is afraid ... he thinks if he is not good enough, you will get rid of him. I have told him again and again that he should not worry, but it never helps." He swallowed, remembered Kili saying, _he might be glad of the chance to be rid of me_, standing in the kitchen and not able to meet Fili's eyes. "He is still afraid."

Thorin stared at him for a long while, eyes hooded. Then his expression darkened and he cursed again. "It matters not," he said, though to Fili he looked like it mattered very much indeed. "Since we cannot know for certain whether Kili left willingly, or was coerced, or was taken by force, we must assume the worst and proceed from there. If we find them — _when _we find them, if Kili does not wish to return, we shall decide what to do."

"If Fëor takes him to the Dúnedain," Dwalin rumbled, "I do not think the decision shall be up to us. They do not respect our customs if they conflict with their own."

"If Fëor takes him to the Dúnedain, at least I shall not be concerned for his safety. They will care for him, even they will not abide by our rules. But I am not sure Fëor will take him thence."

Fili paled, not having considered until that point that Kili might be in danger. Taken against his will or tricked, and probably confused and frightened, but not in danger from Fëor, who had spent hours tutoring him, more time than anyone else had ever spent with him in his life, save Fili and Thorin. Fili had assumed that Fëor was making a misguided attempt to rescue Kili from a life that Fëor did not understand. _Had_ thought that, but was no longer sure, for while Fili was sheltered, he was not naive. He knew there were those who would be pleased to buy a lone dwarf as a slave, young and strong and malleable, with no kin to come to his rescue. Some men might do such, or some of the less civilized dwarves, even goblins, though the thought made Fili's stomach writhe and twist sickly. Surely Fëor would not stoop so low as _that. _He would not sell Kili like a _thing. _

Except. Except, "_He is of no value to you," _Fëor had said, "_but he could be of some worth to me." _Fili's stomach lurched, and he clenched his fists tight to stop them trembling.

"Fëor is a ranger," he said, and if his voice shook, no one was unkind enough to point it out. "He would not ... surely he meant only to take Kili away from us, not to take him for some unsavory purpose."

"The Dúnedain are an honorable folk as a whole, laddie," Balin said carefully, "but the same cannot be said for each of them individually, any more than the same can be said for dwarves."

"Then we must go now," Fili said. "The longer we wait, the farther the distance they travel, and the less chance we have of catching them!"

"Go where?" Thorin asked. He sounded very tired, and rubbed at his eyes. "We have no idea which direction they've gone. East to the Misty Mountains? South to Rohan or Gondor? To the Grey Mountains or Iron Hills? West over the mountain, even, to Forlindon, where none would think to look for him?"

"We could send search parties," Glóin said, arms crossed on his chest. "A few dwarves in each direction. The ranger's a fair shot with a bow, to be sure, but one man alone could not long stand up to dwarvish steel."

This did not make Thorin look any happier. "I fear we'll not have enough dwarves for that. And I've no doubt Fëor knew it." He looked at Dwalin. "Tell me truly, cousin. How many dwarves could I muster to rescue a stolen _khazd khuv_?"

Dwalin frowned ferociously. "A half-dozen, perhaps, who will come at your call without question. Another dozen who could be convinced, for promise of a future favor or boon. As for the rest-" He shrugged. "-they'll not say it to your face, surely, but they will think Ered Luin is well rid of the boy. They'll not come unless you order it as king, and even then I'd not trust them with Kili out of your sight."

"And you, Dwalin?" Thorin asked. "Where do you fall, among those groups?"

Dwalin drew himself up to his full height. "I am with you always, Thorin, and you should not need to ask. I've no ill intent towards the lad. He's just a child, no matter what it is he's done. I would not see him come to any harm at Fëor's hands."

"I'll send ravens ahead," Thorin said. "They can scout farther and faster than we can hope to."

"That will take hours yet," Balin said. "If he has gone so far as we fear, even the fastest raven could not find him and report back until the afternoon."

"So it shall take until the afternoon," Thorin said irritably. "And in the meantime we shall muster a few dwarves we trust and ready our supplies. We cannot find him by wishing him found. Fili, gather your things together. You'll stay with Bergin while we're gone."

"But," Fili said, staring at him,"I'm coming with you."

Thorin's brows drew together. He looked angry. "This is no journey for a dwarfling. It is not an adventure story, like those in your story books. We will be riding hard and fast, and there's none to say that we shall like what we find when we are through."

"I don't care," Fili said stubbornly. "And I am no dwarfling, Uncle. I am of age. I will not stay behind."

"You will stay behind," Thorin said ominously, "if I tell you to."

Fili felt his face twist into some expression, though he could not imagine what it was. He hoped he looked fierce rather than petulant. "I am of age, and you cannot force me to stay if I do not wish to. I shall hire my own pony if I have to." He stared at Thorin imploringly. "Please, Uncle. He is my ..." Well, what Kili was exactly, Fili did not know. Not _brother_, no, not _kin, _not _friend_ either. There was no adequate word. "... it's _Kili_."

Thorin shook his head. "You have a good heart, lad, and I know you only seek to help, but there is nothing you can do for him now. This is not like teaching him maths."

Fili hadn't realized Thorin knew of that; though Fili had taken no great pains to keep it secret, he had assumed it was one of the many things that happened in the house that held no interest for Thorin and thus would be ignored. He should have known better, but that was not the point at the moment. "I know him best of anyone. Everyone else just orders him around or pretends he does not exist. But I, I _talk_ to him. I do not know what Fëor may have told him, but Kili will trust me. He will listen to what I have to say. Please, Uncle, I will not slow you down, I promise."

Thorin stared at him for a long time, face inscrutable. Then finally, he nodded, conceding. "You may come. But if you fall behind, I shall send you back."

"I will not fall behind," Fili said. Thorin nodded grudginly and sent him off then to prepare supplies. Fili spent the next hour gathering food that could be easily stored and eaten while riding. He was not very good at it, he thought, staring hopelessly at the jumble of items stacked in front of him. Kili would know what to take. Kili had gone on dozens of trips with Thorin. Fili had come along on a few trips too, but Kili was always the one responsible for packing the food. All Fili did was eat it.

"Hey," said a voice at his shoulder. Fili jumped, but it was only Bergin, looking at him with wide eyes. "My father told me what happened. He is going with you to find Kili. Are you all right?"

"No," Fili said. He was too tired to lie. "No, I am not. Thorin told me to ready the food, but I do not know what to bring. Kili would know, but I cannot ask him, and I keep worrying what if, what if Fëor has hurt him? What if we are too late? What if we can't find them at all?"

"You will find them," Bergin said confidently. "Thorin has sent the ravens off and they shall spot him, and once you know where they are, Father shall help you find a way to get there quickly. He knows the roads better than anyone in all of Ered Luin. Do you really think Fëor has hurt Kili?"

"I-" Fili said. "No, I do not. At least I hope not. It would make no sense for him to have done so. Kili will ride more quickly if he is hale. But he would not have left willingly, I know he would not have, so Fëor must have tricked him somehow." He scowled at the food in front of him as if it were to blame. "It would not have been difficult. No one ever lies to him, so he believes everyone is always telling him the truth."

"You lie to him," Bergin pointed out. "You have told me so."

"Just so he should get used to it!" Fili said.

Bergin considered this. "I suppose he ought to understand that not everyone is always truthful. Why does no one lie to him? People lie to me all the time."

"People care what you think," Fili said. "So if they do not want you to think a particular thing, they lie to you about it. No one cares what Kili thinks about anything, and so they do not bother to lie to him. I lie to Kili so he should get practiced at recognizing it, for when he is grown and on his own."

Bergin looked at him very thoughtfully. "The way you say it," he said, "it makes perfect sense, even though I am sure it cannot be a good thing."

"I would swear never to lie to him again, if it meant that he should return home safely."

"Father told Mother," Bergin said, "that Fëor might have taken Kili to ... to sell him. And that he should have a better idea of that when he knew the road Fëor had taken. But I cannot believe Fëor would be so evil. I thought he might teach me the bow, do you remember?"

"It was just two days ago," Fili said. "Of course I remember."

"Was it just two days ago? It feels much longer. I do not think you should take strawberries with you. They shall get smashed to pulp in the saddle bags. Father only ever brings hard things like jerky and nuts and dried fruit. You might bring some potatoes. I shouldn't think they would be too harmed."

"We shall not be stopping to cook," Fili said, "and I do not particularly fancy raw potatoes."

"You might boil some eggs. Mother always sends Father with boiled eggs. Father says they travel well."

Fili frowned. "I do not know how to boil eggs. The cook has always done it. Or Kili, of late."

"I have not either." Bergin looked rather dubiously at the bowl of eggs on the counter, and then at the pot of water suspended over the hearth. "But it cannot be very complicated."

"No," Fili said, but he made no move to light the fire.

At that moment, they heard a great caw of a raven, and a clatter on the roof.."They've returned," Fili said breathlessly, and he dashed from the kitchen to the parlor, where everyone else was waiting. Thorin was not in the room, and the dwarves all were restless and agitated, sharpening blades and checking packs, speaking in terse whispers among themselves. Bergin's father Berlad was poring over a map, muttering to himself and making markings on the parchment with a feather pen.

Thorin walked into the room a moment later, looking grim. "They head southeast, over rough country. They have traveled far, but not so far as we might have feared. They were twenty miles away when the raven spotted them."

"They head toward Grey Havens, surely," Berlad said, finger on the map. "It will take them another two days at least to get there, three more likely, unless the ranger ties Kili to his pony when the hour grows late. But even so, the animals will need to rest, and graze."

"That does not buy us much," Thorin said. "They have already a day and a half on us, and our ponies will face the same difficulties as theirs."

"There are no good roads between here and the Havens," Berlad said, "and so they must go slowly. A man traveling with a lone dwarf lad will be conspicuous. Fëor will not want to draw attention to himself so he will be sticking to the plains and wastelands where no one will see them. But there are beaten paths closer to the river, and a few small settlements along the way where we will be able to trade in our ponies for fresh ones. We can make up considerable time."

Thorin nodded, peering down at the map. "So we ride close to the river and come down to the Havens from the north."

"Aye," Berlad said. "He will likely be heading in from the west, and expecting pursuit, if any, to come from behind him."

"I mislike it," Balin said. "The Havens are sparsely populated, but those who live there are elves and elf-friends. They are no friends of ours, but they have good relations with the Dúnedain. If Fëor makes it there, I've no doubt they will help him at our expense."

"So we must make sure he does not make it that far," Thorin said.

"What if he does?" Glóin rumbled. "There's no way across the Gulf at the Havens but for the elf ferry."

"I have warm enough relations with them," Berlad said. "Like any who dwell at a port, they love money more than aught else, and I pay them thrice what the trip should cost. They may grumble at having to transport so many of us, but for enough silver, they will take us."

"And what then?" Dwalin asked. "Once across the river they can head straight to Michel Delwing, and thence to the East Road or the Green Way."

Thorin grumbled. "Do not buy more trouble than we can afford. If we set off now, and travel quickly, we may be lucky enough to catch them before any of this comes to pass. If we miss them at Grey Havens we will decide then what to do. But let us hope it does not come to that." He straightened up and stood tall. "Ready your packs and your ponies. We leave in an hour from the town square."

The dwarves nodded and filed out quickly, Berlad fetching Bergin from the kitchen. Bergin waved goodbye to Fili and mouthed _good luck_ before his father pulled him up onto their pony and rode off. Then the house was empty but for Thorin and Fili. To Fili, it sounded very quiet.

Thorin stood for a moment staring pensively at the map, then folded it up and put it in his pocket, heaving a great sigh. It was only then that he seemed to notice Fili in the room, and his mouth tightened, though not, it seemed, in displeasure. Fili thought Thorin just looked very tired.

"Last chance to change your mind, Fili," Thorin said.

Fili shook his head. "I shall not change it, Uncle. I am coming with you. I _must _come. I cannot stay here and wonder if you have found him yet or if something bad has happened; I should go crazy with fear and worry."

Thorin sighed. "Aye, I think you would. Come then, let us see what you have gathered for us to take." He followed Fili into the kitchen and made a funny face at the haphazard stack of supplies on the table. "If we were to take even half of this, our ponies would never even be able to reach a trot. Pack the bread and cheese and dried meats, and put the rest back in the cupboard. I hope we shall not be gone so long as to need so much food; if we are, we shall just have to resupply on the way."

Fili nodded, face flushing, and started putting away all the extra items, stacking them as neatly as he could in the pantry. Kili would not be happy if he came home and found everything in disorder. And he _would_ come home. Fili would not allow himself to consider any other outcome.

"I have oft thought you were too close to him, you know," Thorin murmured, carefully wrapping the breads and cheeses in cloth to keep them fresh. "I did not think it could be good for either of you to spend so much time together. But I did not have the heart to stop it."

"I am glad you did not!" Fili said. "He is a good dwarf, Uncle, no matter that he has committed a crime. And someday he will have finished his sentence, and he will be as any other dwarf, and none can tell me then that I cannot be friends with him, or keep him by my side. When I am king, I will need to know the dwarves I can trust, like you trust Balin and Dwalin. I already know I shall have Bergin always, and I shall have Kili too, I hope. But we must get him back first."

"Aye," Thorin said after a long moment. "That we must. Just ... you must prepare yourself, Fili. If we do not catch them before Grey Havens, the chance we will ever catch them will go down considerably. And if Kili has gone with Fëor willingly — I know you do not think it possible, but Balin is right, we must consider it — if he has gone willingly, it will make it that much more difficult. Kili has yet just the beginnings of a beard and he is so slight; if he were freshly shaven they could pass themselves off as father and son, and none would look at them twice. They could disappear into one of the cities of men, and we should never find them then."

"But you do not think that," Fili said. "Uncle, you do not believe that. You think Fëor has a darker purpose in taking him."

"I do. But even if he does, he would hardly be fool enough to tell Kili of it. And so he may yet have Kili's compliance, even if his aims are foul." Thorin shook his head as if to clear it, and took stock of the supplies. "This is good enough, I think. Pack some clothing and your swords and draw some water from the well. I shall tend to the ponies."

They rode into town soon thereafter, and the company set out, ten altogether: Thorin, Balin, Dwalin, Glóin, Óin, Berlad and his wife's brother Esgin, Bekka (brother to Fekka who sold Fëor the pony), Bifur (cousin to Bofur, and with an axe in his head!) and Fili. "A motley crew if I ever saw one," said Nithi, Berlad's wife (and Esgin's sister, the two so alike in appearance that they could have been twins, though a dozen years separated their births). "Here, take these tokens for luck." She handed them each a stone carved with runes, inscriptions for fortune and speed and health. Fili took his and carefully tucked it into his pack, deep down in a pocket where it should not get lost. "Fili," Nithi said, in a quiet voice, when no one was looking. "This is for Kili, when you find him." She handed him a second stone, then, burnished black and shining, and it had inscriptions on both front and back, for safety and home. "So he should know that not everyone wishes him gone from Ered Luin."

"He shall know that," Fili said fervently, "when he sees all of us riding together to rescue him." But he took the stone and tucked it away with the first. "Thank you, Nithi. Tell Bergin I shall expect him to keep the shinty team in good form while I am gone."

Nithi laughed and gave him a tender kiss on his head. "I shall. You are a good lad, Fili, son of Dís. Your mother would be so proud to see you astride your pony, looking all but grown, and set off bravely to right a wrong."

Fili blushed, and wished her well, and then Thorin called for them to start and they rode off.

* * *

A/N: All right, who guessed? I know some of you had your suspicions. :) And look ... a Thing Happened! (This story has so far been a lot of chatter, but now there is some actual plot. Very exciting.)

Thanks to my poor sickly beta SapphireMusings, who will hopefully get better some day soon! And thanks too to everyone who comments. It is always much appreciated.


	5. Chapter 5

_"As long as algebra and geometry have been separated, their progress have been slow and their uses limited; but when these two sciences have been united, they have lent each mutual forces, and have marched together towards perfection." — Joseph Louis Lagrange_

* * *

Thorin had not lied that they would ride hard and fast. The company set out from Ered Luin along the path that ran by the river, and they set the ponies at a brisk pace to leave the town behind quickly. It was already mid-afternoon by the time they left, but it was midsummer and night would not fall for hours yet. Fili's bum was already sore by the time they reached the great turn of the river, but he dared not say a word of complaint for fear that Thorin should send him home immediately.

"There is a settlement but a few miles away," Berlad said. He was riding up in front with Thorin, and Fili was just behind. "We shall reach it by suppertime, if you want to change out the ponies and keep riding, but we shall have to camp for the night at some point. The next settlement is 15 miles south; even with fresh mounts we shall not reach that before it is too dark to ride."

"The nights are short now," Thorin said. "We shall ride until it is too dark to see, and then sleep only until the first rays of morning lighten the sky. Even so, we must hope Fëor is not pushing so hard."

"He cannot be," Berlad said. "He has to let the horses rest. And," he said thoughtfully, "he will have to stop before we do. The eyes of men are not so good in the dark as ours, and I doubt he will want to rely on the eyesight of his steed."

"Then we must take advantage of every extra minute and ride until the very last of the light has faded," Thorin said. "Come, Fili, can you last for a few more miles? You do not look very comfortable. You are making a face with every step."

"I can last," Fili said. "But I think that tomorrow I shall not be able to feel my bum at all."

"Oh, I guarantee that you shall feel it," Thorin said, grinning, then spurred on his pony so that they all had to race to catch up.

Fili had never been so grateful to see a cluster of houses as he was that evening, for even if they were only staying for long enough to hire some new mounts, that would be a little while that he needn't be in the saddle!

"Go fetch us some dinner from the inn, laddie," Balin said, handing him a few coppers. "We might as well take advantage of the chance to buy something hot."

Fili looked doubtfully at the inn, for it looked like it might collapse if anyone were to breathe on it too forcefully, and he was sure it had not seen a new coat of paint since it was first built. But the smell when he walked in was of hearty stew and fresh bread, and the innkeeper was happy enough for the coin to pack up all the food in sturdy containers that they could take with them. "Just bring them back on your way home," he said cheerfully. "It's not as if we get so much business here that I'll be hurting for their lack."

"Stew," Thorin said, doubtfully when Fili returned. "On a pony." He did not look very excited by the prospect, but once they were on their way again, the containers proved to be deep enough that the stew hardly splashed at all, and the stew was certainly more satisfying than any of the dried supplies they had packed.

They rode slower as the light grew dim, but did not stop until it was so dark that even their eyes, bred for the depths of the mines, could make out nothing in front of them, and then they needed to set up their camp by feel. Fili was so tired that he almost fell asleep on top of his bedroll, but Thorin would not let him. "There are insects out here that can pierce the skin of even the hardiest dwarf," he said. "You cannot stop all of them but you need not invite them to feast on you so easily."

The next day dawned far too early; Fili felt he had just closed his eyes when Thorin was already shaking him awake, and they were back on their ponies before the sun had hardly begun to peek over the horizon.

"The ground is good and firm," Berlad said as they set off. "Our riding will be fast. But if Fëor has strayed to the east to avoid the rocks of the foothills, he shall be in marshland. It has been a rainy summer. He must go slower than we."

"Then I hope he has strayed to the east," Thorin said. "I grow more anxious with every hour that we shall not catch them."

Fili too was anxious, though he would not say so out loud. But with little to distract him, he could not help but look around the great wide land around him and wonder, what if Fëor had not strayed east? What if he had turned west around the mountains to travel to Forlindor after all? Or what if he had after all arranged this journey in advance, and had ponies and horses waiting for him along the way, so that he would not have to rest as they hoped? What if despite their best efforts he made it to Grey Havens and crossed before them? What if the elves would not help them? There were so many things, it seemed, that must go right, and it was far too easy to imagine every one of them going wrong.

But then Bifur started singing (the axe in his head left him mute, so he spoke only by signing in Iglishmek, but his singing voice, oddly, was unaffected), and soon Thorin and Óin joined in — Óin, for his part, very loudly and rather hilariously off-key — and Esgin, who had an unexpectedly sweet voice quite at odds with the bawdy song Bifur had chosen. Soon Fili was laughing so hard he almost forgot his worries, and it was a very pleasant change from the gnawing panic that had been plaguing him ever since he had realized Kili was missing.

Lunch and snacks they took while riding, and the few minutes they stopped were hardly long enough for Fili to get the feel of walking again. The only break came when they stopped to switch out the ponies again. Balin gave him more coppers, this time to buy sweets and ale. Fili would have appreciated them more had he any feeling beneath his waist. As it was, he tripped and almost fell and had to be righted by Dwalin, which was quite embarrassing, even though Dwalin did not tease him unduly about it.

Thorin left that settlement quite cheerful, for some ravens had been within the town, and they reported that a pair of riders were making their way slowly through the marshlands, hampered by the muddy ground, and that they surely would not reach the Havens before another day and a half had gone by.

"If we separate at Mithrond Pass," Berlad said, "we can come at them from all directions. He will have nowhere to run."

Thorin nodded. "It would be best to approach at dusk. It will be dark to his eyes but still bright to ours. He will not see us coming until it is too late. And it will be harder for him to use the bow against us."

Fili paled a bit. He had not considered that Fëor might attack them. Surely if he saw nearly a dozen dwarves approach he would surrender, for a ranger he might be, but he was still but a single man, and he could not hope to defeat the entire company.

"Kili's eyes will still see well enough," Dwalin grunted. "And he is already a fair shot with the bow."

"Kili will not shoot at us," Fili burst out, for it was one thing to speculate about Fëor, who had proved himself to be quite untrustworthy indeed, but it was another thing entirely to begin to doubt _Kili_. He glowered at Dwalin. "You insult him by even suggesting it."

"Calm yourself, laddie," Dwalin said. He looked amused. "I meant no offense. But we know not what kind of hold Fëor has on him. I do not think it likely he will fire upon us, but I would be loathe to walk unarmored toward him and find I was wrong when his arrow pierces my throat. I am calling for caution, that is all."

Fili was not very much appeased by this, but Thorin turned around and scowled at him, so Fili subsided.

Berland frowned down at his map. "We are here," he said, pointing to a spot on the map that Fili could not see. "Mithrond Pass is here. It is more than a day's ride, and there is nowhere between here and there to get new mounts. I am not sure we will make it by dusk tomorrow. We may have to wait until the next morning."

Thorin scowled. "If we misjudge, Fëor may already be in the Havens and we will have missed our best opportunity."

"We can ride through the night," Esgin said, nosing his horse up towards the front. "I have a light, gifted me from the elves, that we can use to illuminate the path, even if the night is black as pitch."

Everyone stared at him, even Berlad. "What nonsense is this?" Berlad said finally. "An elf light? What have you ever done to gain such a treasure?"

"Oh," Esgin said, grinning mischievously. "You know, there are always elves in Lake-Town, and they are very fond of drinks and games. You cannot out-drink an elf, you know, but it is easy to make them think they have out-drunk you, when all you are sipping at is honeyed tea. And they are fools when drinking, the same as any other creature."

"I see," Berlad said, disapproval dripping from each word. "So when you say they gifted this light to you, you really mean that they gambled it away."

"It can be such a bother to find the right words sometime," Esgin said. "Gifted, gambled. They both start the same. And you should not complain, brother, for if it were not for my gaming habits, Nithi and I should still be living east of the Misty Mountains, and you would not be so happily married and the father of two such fine dwarflings! Here," he said, reaching into his pack and pulling out a small crystal phial, "it is a most miraculous thing, for it never runs out of light, no matter how much it is used."

Thorin looked at it with suspicion writ clear across his face, though Fili, for his part, was astounded by the clear white light that shone from the crystal. "Elf magic," Thorin muttered. "I do not trust it."

"It is just a light," Esgin said, "like a torch, only it will not blow out in the wind."

"It is small," Berlad said.

Esgin nodded. "Yes, it is perhaps best suited for stumbling to the privy at midnight. But I think if we ride close together, and we can calm the ponies, it may grant us several hours riding. We shall still have to let the ponies rest and eat a bit, and poor Fili here shall need to stop and sleep at some point or he shall fall from his mount, but still, those extra hours we gain may be the difference between reaching the ranger at dusk or dawn."

"I shall not fall from my mount," Fili protested.

Esgin cuffed him lightly on the ear. "There is no shame in being young, Fili. You are growing still and need your sleep. Truly, I think none of us will protest too much at stopping for at least a short rest. We shall do little good to Kili if we cannot keep our eyes open when we find him."

Thorin concurred, though grudgingly, but it did seem that the elf-light offered them the best chance to catch up to Fëor and Kili, and Thorin was not so biased against the elves that he would pass up such an opportunity. They rode the rest of the day, careful not to tire out the ponies too much, and stopped only to relieve themselves when they must.

The light grew dim, then faded entirely, and Esgin pulled out his phial. In the dark, it shone even brighter than before, a cool white light that looked entirely unnatural and cast shadows among the stones on the ground. The ponies were none too happy about it, and bucked and whinnied for several minutes until Balin calmed them down with carrots he had been saving for just such an occasion; then the ponies seemed willing (if not happy) to travel by the light of the phial.

It was a strange, unsettling journey, and Fili was glad that they must ride so close together to take advantage of the elf light, for the shadows twisted and danced in ways that sent his spine tingling, and there was no telling what lurked outside their edges. Eventually, though, he found himself nodding off; he tried and tried to keep his eyes open but could not manage it without biting his tongue so hard it bled, and even that proved insufficient after a while.

"Come here," Thorin murmured in his ear. "This pony is strong enough to carry both of us. Sleep for a bit. I shall watch you and your pony both."

Fili wanted to protest, but he was so very tired, and so he clambered gracelessly onto Thorin's pony, and settled in against his chest, Thorin's arm broad and strong around him. _How Kili would laugh_, he thought, _to see me held so like a babe,_ but before he could be embarrassed by it, he was asleep.

* * *

They must have stopped at some point during the night, but Fili slept through it, and woke only when Thorin pulled his bedroll out from under him. "Up," he said, "wash your face and ease your bladder. We leave in five minutes."

It was another long day's ride, this one with no stop in the middle, for Thorin's anxiety had infected all of them now, and they could not bear to have come so close, only to fail by hours at the end. The countryside was drab and dull, with only the occasional burst of wildflower to catch the eye. Esgin sang again for a little while, but all the songs he had to offer were somber, of treasures lost and battles fought long ago, and eventually he could not even manage those, so they rode along in grim, oppressed silence.

It was quite the bitterest day Fili had ever spent, and he even found himself wishing he had not pushed so to come along, for surely he would have been better off at home, without this heavy gloom hanging over him. If he were home, Bergin and Kethi would be distracting him, and perhaps they would go into town to beg sweets from the baker. And then at nighttime Nithi would tuck them into bed as if they were little dwarflings still, and she would sing a lullaby about a long-ago princess of Moria who loved gold so much she wove it into her hair and beard and clothing, and none could help but have sweet dreams after such a day as that, with friends abed nearby and pretty songs to ease the way into slumber.

"We are making fine progress," Berlad said to Thorin, after they had ridden along wordlessly for some time. "Mithrond Pass is but a few miles away, and the sun is only just now starting to go down."

Thorin nodded. "I hope Fëor's progress has not been as swift. Come, let us see if our ponies have aught left to give us!"

They raced ahead, and Fili's anxiety increased even while his excitement grew, for if they were lucky, they should find Fëor and Kili before nightfall, and they were well away from Grey Havens and any aid the elves might provide one of the Dúnedain. And if they were not lucky, well, they still had hope to catch their quarry on the morrow, before they reached the city. And if they were even less lucky, they still could not trail so far behind as to make hope of catching up unreasonable.

"I have a fear," Dwalin said to Balin as they rode abreast, His voice was pitched low; had Fili's hearing not been so keen (not quite so keen as Kili's, no, but keener still than anyone else's he knew), he would not have heard more than a low rumble. "If we must go into the Havens, I shall have to stay behind, or wear a hood. Berlad might have warm relations with them but mine own are considerably less so."

"Pfft," Balin said. "Surely you do not think they bear a grudge about _that_, after so much time."

"Their memories are as lengthy as their lives," Dwalin said darkly. "What is fifty years to them? Hardly any time at all. I should not like to test it."

"Mahal be willing, we shall not need to," Balin said. "Berlad seems confident we have pulled ahead in this race."

"Mmm," Dwalin said. "And if it were anyone else we sought to rescue, I would find it easy to trust that we would succeed. But I fear that we require luck and shall not find it."

Balin scowled at him. "And yet you came along."

"I would not desert Thorin, even if I think there is nothing but ill ahead."

"Then you are a fool," Balin said, "and though I have oft thought so since the day they first showed me your swaddled bum and wrinkled face, I am sure I have never had so much the right of it! For surely if there is bad luck to come for being in Kili's company, it is Fëor to whom it shall come, not us."

Dwalin frowned, considering. "I suppose you have a point in that," he admitted begrudgingly.

"As I often do. You should let me do the thinking, brother, whilst you take care of the fighting. Stick each of us to our strengths, as Mother said. And," he added, in a lower voice, "I should not let Thorin hear you give voice to such sentiments. He follows the law as he must, but I think you would find no sympathy from him for letting superstition sway your actions. If he cannot trust you to put aside your fears to save the boy, he shall send you away, and if he does that, I do not think you should find your way back into his confidence so quickly."

Dwalin grunted. "I've already said I shall not let the lad come to harm. Those were not just words for Thorin's sake. I meant them truly. But you cannot expect me to be easy in his company."

"No," Balin said, "I do not. But I would ask that you not be obvious about it, out of compassion if nothing else. I fear no matter the circumstance which brought Kili here, this shall prove to be a trauma for him."

"I shall be discreet as I can be," Dwalin said.

Balin stared at him for a moment, then sighed rather heavily. "Well," he said, sounding somewhat resigned, "that will surely not be discreet enough, but I cannot expect the impossible."

They fell silent then, and Fili let his pony drift backwards a bit, so that if they were to turn around, they should have no reason to suspect him of listening to what he ought not to hear. He rather wished he had not heard it at all, for now he was uneasy in his trust for Dwalin, and even Balin too, who had in the end done nothing to assuage his brother's fears, but had only exacted a promise from him not to let them show.

He ought not, he knew, to be so surprised, for Dwalin would hardly ever come to the house, and when he did Thorin always found some pretext to keep Kili busy outside or in the back room until after Dwalin left. But Fili had never quite managed to put the pattern together, to figure out that Dwalin found discomfort in Kili's very presense, though in looking back he felt stupid that he had not. He wondered if Kili had noticed; if he had felt slighted at being hidden away within his own house.

But no, he thought, sighing. Kili was well aware what people thought of him, and never took offense at it. Probably he knew full well that he made Dwalin uncomfortable. Possibly it was not even Thorin who found chores for him that kept him out of Dwalin's company, but Kili himself who devised them. It was just the sort of thing he would do.

"Hssst!" Berlad said loudly. "We have reached the Pass. From here we can split apart to come at him from north, south, and east. The group from the south shall have to be the most careful, since that is the way Fëor and Kili shall be riding."

We must all be cautious," Thorin said. "Fëor is a ranger, and we must assume little will escape his attention."

Dwalin grunted. "Having come so far unmolested, he may be confident that he has escaped. That may make him careless."

"Or it shall make him desperate when cornered," Thorin said. "None of us should take any needless risks. It is still only just dusk. We should remain concealed until at Mahal's Hammar is visible in the sky. His vision will be worst then, while it will still seem bright enough to us."

And so they split into three groups, Thorin and Fili and Bifur, Balin and Glóin and Berlad, and Dwalin and Esgin and Bekka (who had done very little so far but to care for the ponies and eat, but who had a fair arm with an axe and a very thick skull). Óin alone was to stay out of harm's way, "For if any of us get injured," Thorin said, "we shall need you to tend to us, and for that we need you in one piece."

Óin did not protest too much, for his deafness made him only poorly stealthy, and it seemed certain that stealth would be sorely needed this night. "I shall prepare some ointments," he said, "though I should be quite happy if none of you needed them!" They left him within a small copse of trees, and the ponies as well, for if they were to approach without being seen, they could not do it mounted, even if it were evening and Fëor's eyesight poor. ("Kili shall be able to see us perfectly well," Dwalin pointed out, and Fili had to bite his tongue to keep from retorting in an nasty manner.)

They hid behind bushes, crouched down low and still, and Fili strained his eyes to peer through the small spaces in the branches. He felt very nearly sick with apprehension. "They may have passed us by already," he whispered. "We may be here all night while they ride towards Grey Havens."

"No," Thorin whispered back. "Bekka saw two riders in the distance. His eyes are the strongest of all of ours, and I do not doubt he saw truly. There can hardly be another pair of riders on the plains; or, if there is, we have been chasing the wrong quarry all this time."

Bifur signed something furiously. Fili's Iglishmek was somewhat less than proficient, but he thought perhaps Bifur had said something along the lines of, "Shut up, fools, or we will be heard." Thorin grunted, but did not say another word for nearly a half an hour, during which time it grew steadily darker, until the lights of Grey Havens became visible in the distance glittering over the waters.

Then, when Fili's legs were all but completely asleep, Thorin whispered, "Mahal's Hammer is up. Let us go."

They crept out of their concealment, careful to stay silent and close to the ground. The sounds of the night sounded loud in Fili's ears as they trod carefully over the rough ground, moving slowly so as not to trip, and careful too to keep their swords and axes from clanking. Finally, when they had walked so far Fili felt sure they must be about to cross paths with the rest of the company, he heard the sound of voices, speaking softly in Common. Fëor! Fili's heart pounded in his chest, so loudly he was sure it would be heard as they crept closer still.

"I know you are tired," Fili heard, "and I am sorry we cannot light a fire, but tomorrow night we shall be in the city, and we can rent a proper room in a proper inn. You will like that, will you not?"

"Yes." And that was Kili! But he sounded tired and his voice was dull and strange.

"Here," Fëor said. "Drink this, and then I shall see if there is enough rabbit left over from lunch to make a proper meal. Have you ever stayed in an elvish city before?"

A pause. "No."

"Ah, of course not. Thorin does not truck with elves. Well, I shall be very curious to see what you make of it. I think they shall make quite a fuss over you. You are unaccustomed to that, I am sure."

"Yes." There was another pause. "Must I drink it all?"

"Every drop, as before. It will not work as well if-" Fëor stopped talking then and went very silent, and the moment after that things got very loud indeed. Whether Fëor had seen one of them, or someone had grown impatient, Fili never did learn, but there was all of a sudden very much yelling and cursing and clashing of steel, and Fili to his own dismay found that his heart was beating quite furiously in his chest, as if he were afraid. Which he was most certainly _not_. (Except his heart would not stop beating so quickly, and it was difficult to catch his breath.)

Someone let out a grunt of pain — Fili hoped it was not Thorin, and the voice was too deep to be Kili's — and someone else cursed in Khuzdul. Fili looked at the battle, such as it was, and saw Fëor fighting with two swords with ease, like Fili hoped to one day, though he thought he would never be as fluid (nor as tall, with such a reach). But even with two swords, Fëor was out-bladed by eight to two, and the outcome seemed to be nothing but a matter of waiting for it. Fili had brought his own sword but his job was not to fight, but to get to Kili, and so he did, creeping carefully around the edges of the battling group to where Kili sat, still and wide-eyed, on the ground.

Kili had made no move to pick up any weapon, and this was a very happy observation, for no matter what Fëor had done to him, he had not lost all his reason entirely. At least, Fili thought, Dwalin would not see him as a threat, if he had not shown any inclination to violence. "Kili," he whispered, then repeated more loudly when Kili did not react. "Kili, are you all right?"

Kili turned to face him, movements odd and stiff and slow, and stared at him, hardly blinking. His eye widened after a minute, but then a clang of steel startled his attention back to the melee, and he turned away, still moving with that peculiar lethargy.

Fili grew alarmed. If Kili had run away, then he should be frightened or guilty at having been caught; if he had been kidnapped, he should be relieved at having been saved; if he had been tricked, he should be confused at having been followed. He should not not be _blank_. "Kili," he said again, urgently, tapping Kili on the arm to draw his attention back. "Kili, we have been very worried about you."

Kili blinked at him again. His brow furrowed, then cleared. "Fili," he said, and if there was no light flooding into his eyes, there was at least some sense of recognition. Fili could almost not breathe for the relief he felt

"Yes," Fili said. "Yes. Kili, what happened? Why did you leave home?"

Kili stared at him as if he did not understand the words, and another loud clang drew his attention back to where Fëor had just been disarmed, though by whom, Fili could not tell. Thorin and Dwalin and Glóin and Bekka and Bifur surrounded him in a very well armed circle. Fili could not see Berlad or Esgin or Balin, which was a little worrisome but only just a little, as none of the dwarfs he could see looked especially murderous, as they would be if Fëor had killed one of the others.

Fëor did not drop to his knees, but stood defiantly, though he was hunched over slightly, hands pressed against a gash in his shirt, blood seeping quickly through his fingertips and dripping to pool on the ground. "Thorin Oakenshield," he said pleasantly, as if they were well met at a tavern and he were not bleeding copiously in front of them, "I am surprised to see you here."

Thorin all but snarled. "Did you think I would not come for my own?"

"I confess I did not, not after I gave you a fine opportunity to be so easily rid of your dross. And with such a band of fellows at your side! What did you have to promise them, that they would come with you to retrieve your errant chattel?"

"You would offer him such insult, after so long in his company?" Thorin spat.

"Oh, but I meant no offense," Fëor said. "I simply do him the respect of using words which are true. That is not, perhaps, something to which you are accustomed. Showing him respect, that is." He smiled with a mouthful of teeth and inclined his head slightly. "With all due respect to _you_, of course, Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror, King Under the Mountain."

Dwalin growled. "You should take his tongue for his insolence."

Fëor raised his eyebrows. He did not look the least alarmed, though he was beginning to grow a little pale. Fili suspected that was due to blood loss more than any real fear. The gash looked deeper than he had first supposed. "Dwalin son of Fundin. Well met. You are as bloodthirsty as I have been told." Fëor pressed his hands more tightly against the wound in his side and grimaced.

Thorin jabbed his sword in Fëor's direction. "Why did you take the boy?"

Fëor looked almost surprised. "What can that matter now? You have retrieved him, and he is as hale and whole as he was when we left. Why should you care about my reasoning for fetching him away?"

"I would know if another attempt shall be made, or if this plot was entirely your own," Thorin growled. "Speak truly, and perhaps I shall let you live."

Fëor's jaw tightened. "Let me live, shall you, by leaving me here in the wasteland, with my blood staining the ground at my feet? I shall be dead by the morning, whether you let me live now or no."

"We are not far from Grey Havens," Thorin said. "And I am sure that a ranger of the Dúnedain has ways to alert the elves to his presence. I think you shall not die from that wound alone." He tightened his grip on his sword. "But another would surely prove fatal."

Fëor's lips compressed to a thin line, and he glanced at the dwarves surrounding him, then back to Thorin. "I think you overestimate my ability to withstand having my guts cut open. Men are not so hardy as dwarves when it comes to wounds."

"Well then, that is even more reason to answer my questions quickly, for if you tell me what I wish to know, perhaps I shall be charitably inclined to aid you so that you might yet live. Or are you truly willing to die over the boy? I have known men who would die for a cause, but you do not seem the type."

Fëor laughed, then grimaced. His hands were coated with blood. "You are right in that, I suppose. I have lived a long time but not quite long enough for my liking." He glanced over to where Fili was sitting next to Kili. "If it will set your mind at ease, there was no greater plot at work. You keep your shameful secrets hidden well. The boy's existence is not widely known. If I were you, I should aim to keep it that way."

"But why?" Thorin asked. "He means nothing to anyone. _Khazd khuv_ have no value but for the labor they can provide, and to most that does not compensate for the risk."

Fëor stared at him. "You dwarves astound me, even now. You say a thing as if that alone is enough to make it so. You set him to menial labor, you feed him scraps, you keep him hidden away as if his presence is enough to taint the air you breathe. And yet none of this lessens what he is."

"And what," Thorin asked icily, "is that?"

"Durin's blood," Fëor said, "for all you might pretend that he is not. Even we of the uncivilized races recognize the value of that."

Fili jolted, for such things were never spoken of, not even in whispers, and he was not sure Kili knew of it, or even whether he himself was supposed to know. He glanced uneasily at Kili, but Kili was staring fixedly at his fingers with a strange focus, to all appearances oblivious to what was being said around and about him. It was not natural, and Fili's stomach twisted anxiously to see it.

"It is a tragedy," Fëor continued. "To think one with blood so strong has been reduced thus, all but invisible even to his own people."

Thorin frowned mightily. "So I am to believe you sought to rescue him merely to improve his state?"

Fëor laughed. It sounded very bitter. "No," he said. "Would that I were so noble. Perhaps I was, once upon a time. But no, now I am as venal as any man who lives from day to day."

"Ah." Thorin nodded slowly. "So it was for money then."

Fëor smirked, though the effect was ruined by the increasing pallor of his skin and the way his hands were shaking as they pressed against his belly. "That you look at him and see nought but a slave does not make him any less than what he truly is. A bastard son of the royal line of Durin would fetch a high price, especially one so young and compliant. He could be molded into a fine weapon in someone's hands."

"A weapon."

Thorin's eyes voice was grim and his eyes were dark and full of fury, but Fëor either did not notice, or was past the point of caring. "Aye," he said. "And a strong and loyal one he would be. Why, do you claim you should use him any differently, Thorin son of Thrain? You set him to the bow so that he shall use it in your service. You lash him for the sins of others and he thanks you for it. What more could anyone ask for in a servant?"

"You speak of things you do not understand," Thorin growled. "I could take your tongue for it, as Dwalin suggested, and none would blame me. For all that he is _khazd khuv_, Kili holds still more worth than you, a wretch with no deeper purpose than to line your own pockets at Kili's expense."

"A wretch I may be, and I do not deny I sought to line my own pockets, but it was not to be at Kili's expense. I am not so heartless as you conceive me to be. I would not have sold to him to orcs, or slavers, but only to someone who understood his true value and would treasure him for it."

"So you say," Thorin said, "and yet you would have sold him as a thing, and by being sold, he would _become_ a thing. If he proved to be less of an asset than you promised, what would stop the owner from trading him to someone else, who might not see see in him such value as you claim exists? Nay, pretty up your words all you want, if it will ease your conscience, but do not pretend that your motives were other than they were."

"Perhaps you are right," Fëor said, "and I do nought but deceive myself. But I think it is no worse than the way you do the same." He swallowed then, and went very pale. "Oh," he said, sounding surprised, and toppled to the ground and did not move thereafter.

"I suppose that's it for him, then," Glóin muttered, and turned to inspecting his sword. "Still, one less ranger in the world is nothing to be mourned."

Thorin walked over to Fëor's body and poked him with his sword. Fëor did not move, but Thorin scowled. "Not dead yet. Just unconscious." He sheathed his sword and called into the gloom. "Balin! How is Esgin?"

"Esgin," came Esgin's voice, a little weakly, "shall be fine, thank you very much for inquiring so thoughtfully."

Thorin chuckled. "Oh, tis but a scratch. Óin shall stitch you up and you shall have a fine scar to brag of."

"Tis more than but a scratch," Berlad said. "But not a fatal wound, thank Mahal. Nithi would have had my head had I come back without you. She fancies you for some reason I cannot fathom."

"I could say the same of you," Esgin said faintly.

Berlad grunted a laugh and settled down on the ground, pulling Esgin's head into his lap. "Just rest for a while, brother, and regain your strength. If you do not keep quiet, I shall have to start singing, and I do not think any here would appreciate it."

Only then did Thorin turn to where Fili was crouched by Kili's side. "And you, lads," he said. "How fare you?"

"I am fine, Uncle," Fili said. "But something is not right with Kili."

Thorin bent down immediately and stared at Kili with concern. "Is he injured? Kili, are you hurt? Did he hurt you?"

Kili stared back at Thorin blankly. After a moment, his eyes widened, and he said, "_Shemor_?"

"Yes," Thorin said. "Kili, what happened? Why did you leave with Fëor?"

"Fëor," Kili repeated. He blinked slowly, brow creased in confusion. "_Shemor, _I — have you changed your mind? Can I come home?"

"That is why we have come," Thorin said. "To bring you back home. Kili — Kili!" But Kili's gaze had wandered off again, this time to the glint of steel as Glóin and Dwalin checked and cleaned their blades.

"Something is wrong with him," Fili said. "His thoughts are muddled. I cannot keep his attention."

"Well," Thorin said with a frown. "Let us have Óin take a look at him, then, and hope he can figure it out. Bekka! Take Kili's pony and send Óin back here with his bag. Can you handle the rest of the ponies by yourself?"

Bekka shot him a very offended look and did not answer. Instead, he hopped onto Kili's pony in a lithe manner that belied his enormous, bulky frame and rode off briskly into the deepening night.

While waiting, Fili tried to get Kili to react, with no success. Kili could sometimes be coaxed into muttering a word or two, but as the minutes dragged on he seemed to grow worse, not better, no longer even responding to his name, no matter how many times Fili repeated it.

The light was growing very dim, so Glóin and Balin set about making a fire, while Dwalin and Bifur sifted through Fëor's supplies, and Thorin puttered around uselessly, occasionally scowling down at Fëor's body. It made Fili uneasy to think that Fëor was dying in front of them while they did nothing about it, and he would look occasionally to see the faint rise and fall of Fëor's chest, unsure whether he wished it would strengthen or stop altogether.

After what seemed a long while but almost certainly wasn't (for the copse of trees where Óin waited was not so very far away if one was riding, and Óin was more than competent on a pony), Óin appeared out of the gloom and squinted at the fire. "Now then," he barked loudly, "Bekka tells me some of you've gone and got yourself wounded, and after I warned you not to."

"Just Esgin," Berlad said, "protecting me, the idiot."

"I told you," Esgin said, coughing, "Nithi would have killed me if you'd died here. I'd rather face a blade than her wrath any day."

"Something's wrong with Kili too," Fili said. "Something with his mind."

Óin scowled. "Well, let me tend to Esgin first, for I think Nithi will be no happier if it be her brother who dies than if it were her husband. And then I'll check the lad." He looked at the lump on the ground that was Fëor. "Is he dead?"

"Not yet," Thorin grunted.

Óin nodded at Glóin while he clumped over to Esgin and Berlad. "Get some goldenseal root powder from my bag and apply it to his wound. That should help slow the bleeding. Don't skimp; I've plenty more at home. Then wrap a bandage around his belly as tight as you can."

"What," Glóin asked, outraged. "You'd have us save him after all this?"

"Aye, I would. If he's done ought to Kili that I can't figure out, we'll need him alive. Oh, hush," Óin said irritably to Glóin's scowl. "Your victory's the same whether he lives or dies. Not that it is much of a victory, one man against eight fully grown dwarves." He fussed a bit at Esgin. "Not long, but deep. A little deeper and you'd be down the use of one arm. I'll bind it for now, and look to stitch it in the morning when the light's better."

"Now," Óin said, "let's have a look at the lad. Kili?" He bent down in front of Kili and waved his fingers in front of his face. Kili blinked at the movement of air, but didn't respond. Óin sniffed. "Poppies,' he said. Then he slapped Kili hard across the face.

"Óin!" Thorin said, at the same time as Fili darted forward to grab Óin's hand, but Óin waved them off with an irritated grunt.

"Kili? Lad, can you hear me?"

"Mr. Óin?" Kili sounded dazed, and reached his hand up to his cheek. He blinked a few times and looked around. "What — what are you doing here?"

"Oh, just passing through the marshlands," Óin said. "Now you stay with me for a little while, laddie, and we'll make you right as rain." He fussed around with Kili for a while, slapping him occasionally to draw his attention back when it wandered, and set Fili off to make some tea from some leaves he had brought with him. Dwalin he sent to dig a privy ditch a little distance away from the camp, and Bifur to grind some herbs for a poultice for Esgin's wound. When Fili brought back the tea, Óin wasted no time in forcing it on Kili, who made a face at the taste but drank it obediently, at least at first. By the fourth mug, he was beginning to rebel, though by and large this meant only that he was slow to finish what he was served.

"Come on laddie," Óin said, "drink it all up now, there you go."

Kili frowned. He seemed more lucid but also increasingly irritable (which perhaps only Fili noticed, for knowing him so well). "How much must I drink?" he asked.

"Just keep drinking," Óin said. "You'll know when to stop."

Kili scowled, but drank the mug of tea, and was halfway through the next when he put it down on the ground with an alarmed jolt. "Oh," he said. He had gone very suddenly pale. "I don't feel very well."

"Ah," Óin said cheerfully. "Then it's time to stop. A good thing. I was beginning to think we'd run out of tea. Let's head to the privy for a little while, laddie. Come on then, up on your feet. You don't want to be sitting here when it hits."

Kili's expression turned alarmed. "When what hits?" Then his eyes grew very round and his face turned an unpleasant shade of green. He swallowed hard and Fili thought, _oh._

Óin tugged on his arm. "Hurry up, you've not much time." He pulled Kili along with him and out of sight, and not a moment later the horrible sound of retching drifted through the air. It seemed to go on for a very long time, and over it they could hear Óin shouting in what was presumably meant to be a soothing manner.

After quite some time (really, quite a long time; Fili could not quite believe how very long it was), Óin came back. "Well," he said, "there's nought to do now but wait it out. You might as well get some sleep. I'll stay up with Kili. I don't expect any complications, but there's no way of knowing how much of that poison Fëor forced down his throat."

"Poison!" Fili said, in great alarm. He glared at Fëor's unmoving body, bandaged now and breathing a little easier. "After all his words about value and worth, he was feeding Kili poison!"

"Ah, no need to get all worked up, lad. Tis poison just in a manner of speaking. He'll just have been trying to keep the boy suggestible and compliant, I imagine."

"So he's in no danger then," Fili said, heaving a huge sigh of relief.

"Oh, he'll be miserable for the next little while, no doubt of that, but the tea'll clean right him. First one end, then the other! He should be fine come morning." He sniffed, then perked up happily. "Is that rabbit?"

* * *

I actually have very little to say about this chapter except that I am not gifted at writing action scenes, so I just muddled through the best I could. (Witness the intense brevity of BoFA in The Thirteenth Dwarf - it was a boon to me that Tolkien thoughtfully knocked Bilbo out for most of it, and spared me the arduous task of recounting an actual battle.)

Almost done now (with this one, at least) ... just the mop up remaining.

Thanks as always to my beta SapphireMusings, who betaed this when still ill. (And then I forgot she did it.) And thanks to those of you who have taken the time to comment. Even the short ones are very encouraging and inspiring. The long ones make me think really hard!


	6. Chapter 6

"_His way had therefore come full circle, or rather had taken the form of an ellipse or a spiral, following as ever no straight unbroken line, for the rectilinear belongs only to Geometry and not to Nature and Life." - Hermann Hesse_

* * *

The night was not pleasant, filled as it was with the sounds of Kili's distress, but Fili did manage to fall asleep, helped along by a generous portion of wine retrieved from Fëor's pack. He woke in the morning to the sound of everyone else snoring, but for Dwalin, standing solitary guard.

Fëor did not appear to have moved from the night before, but his breathing was steady enough, and Fili imagined he probably would not die. This was not necessarily a good thing; Fëor dead was easier to deal with than Fëor alive. Now Thorin would have to make a choice that Fili did not envy him at all.

Well, that was Thorin's problem, and Fili was glad he had no part of it. Some days it seemed to him that there were very few benefits to being king, just a lot of unpleasant responsibilities. Perhaps it would be better to be king in Erebor, if they ever reclaimed it, for then there would be a full council of advisors to handle all the bothersome bits. He stretched and wriggled out of his bedroll to head towards the privy, though when he got there he wished he had just found a convenient tree instead, for the stench was fouler than he had imagined it could possibly be.

Óin was asleep on his back, breathing in great shuddering snorts that set his beard and mustache quivering. The stench did not seem to be disturbing his sleep. And Kili … was not asleep, nor was he anywhere to be seen. Fili looked around, panicked, for what if Kili upon regaining his senses had fled? They had not really established his state of mind. He was quite muddled the previous night, but that had been from the poppies; they could not be certain that Kili had not left with Fëor on his own.

_Though if he had_, the practical part of Fili's brain insisted, _why should Fëor have needed to muddle his mind at all?_

_Then perhaps Kili had not left willingly_, the less rational part argued back, _but what if Kili heard what Fëor had said about being of Durin's line, and worth more than what he was, and had decided to take himself away, even without Fëor's aid?_

_Or what if Óin was wrong and the poppies had not yet left Kili's body, and he was still_ _muddled and had wandered into the swamp and drowned?_

"Good morning," came a scratchy voice from behind him, and Fili nearly jumped out of his boots, swiveling around in a panic. But it was just Kili, sitting propped up against a tree and looking very much as if he had been pummeled by a troll (or so Fili imagined, having never seen a troll nor one of its victims), but not, fortunately, drowned.

"I am sorry," Kili said, his voice so rough that Fili winced to hear it, especially as he knew exactly why Kili's throat must be so sore. "I did not mean to startle you."

"You did not startle me," Fili said automatically, even though it was quite the most pitiable lie he had ever told. "Why are you not sleeping?"

Kili frowned. "I feel as if I have been sleeping for days and am only just awakening. I think my head has been stuffed with turnips."

Fili took care of his toilet quickly, and sat down next to Kili, who smelled worse than the privy. "Why turnips?"

"I don't like them," Kili said, as if this made perfect sense. "My head is stuffed with something unpleasant. Why not turnips?"

Fili did not have a very good answer for this bit of nonsense, so he just shook his head. "How does the rest of you feel? Because I must say, you do not look your best. Or smell it either."

Kili looked down at himself and frowned. "I am not injured, if that is what you mean."

"No," Fili said. "Actually, that is not what I meant at all. I can see that you are not injured."

Kili shrugged. "I do not feel particularly well, truth be told. But it is nothing that will not heal, I think." He glanced at Fili with an expression that looked to be very carefully neutral. "Is Fëor dead?"

"No," Fili said. "Sorely wounded, but not dead, and Óin tended to him so I think he shall not die. Well, not unless Thorin kills him."

Kili frowned. "Might he?"

"I don't know," Fili admitted. "Killing an opponent in battle is one thing; killing him the morning after when he cannot defend himself is quite another. The rangers are men of honor, usually. Perhaps Thorin shall send him on his way with a promise not to return. I am not sure what else he could do. It seems unlikely that he will bring him back to Ered Luin for trial."

"Mmm," Kili said. His expression was inscrutable, and he picked uneasily at a twig sticking out from the dirt.

Now it was Fili's turn to frown. "I must ask, why did you leave with him? We could not believe it, when we woke in the morning and found you gone."

Kili made a very complicated sort of face, half of disgust and half of anger. "The day of the festival, Fëor came by the house after you and Thorin had left. He said since it was such a beautiful day and he would be leaving soon, we should take the opportunity for one last lesson. Out in the foothills, he said, shooting whilst mounted. He said he had suggested the idea to Thorin only a little while before, and Thorin thought it was a good idea, for an archer who cannot shoot while riding is not as valuable as one who can. I did not suspect it was not the truth — I had no reason not to believe him. He had never lied to me before." He grimaced. "Well, that I know of, at any rate. It seems I am not so good at telling truth from lies."

"It sounds to me very much like something Thorin would have said," Fili said consolingly. "I do not blame you for believing it."

Kili did not look like he was similarly forgiving of his own lapse. "Perhaps I wanted to believe him. It sounded quite exciting, and otherwise I should have been home alone all day." Fili frowned at this. He had always imagined that Kili must enjoy having some time to himself without someone watching his every move (Fili felt that he would certainly appreciate being left alone for a day, though perhaps that was simply because he never was), but he felt guilty about it now, both for not asking, and also for not even guessing that Kili did not enjoy it as much as Fili had supposed. (Though what he could have done about it had he known, he could not imagine, for certainly Thorin would not have cared altogether too much.)

"We rode out," Kili continued, "and I noticed he had his packs with him, but he said it was only a picnic lunch for us in case we did not manage to shoot any game, though he was sure we would find something. And when we stopped for a snack he bade me drink a special tea, which he said would prevent even the smallest tremors in my fingers. I did not like it, but he was quite insistent. He said even the slightest shaking could throw off my aim, and that it would be much harder to correct when mounted." He frowned. "After that, I do not remember the rest of the day quite so well, but that somehow it happened that we should stay out overnight. Then the next morning we rode away from Ered Luin and I did not understand why we did not return, but he said we must go ... and then later he told me that Thorin had sent word whilst I was asleep that he no longer wanted to be my _shemor_, and he had paid Fëor to deliver me to a new one. He had not wanted to tell me in the morning, he said, for fear I would be too upset."

Kili frowned. "I do not ... I cannot remember now why it seemed so sensible to accept everything he said as truth. I thought, surely even if Thorin had decided to get rid of me, he would have told me himself. And also I thought he would at least have let me say goodbye to you, if I was never to see you again. But Fëor had an answer for every protest I raised, and I ... I felt so odd, as if I was dreaming. It was hard to make my thoughts stick to an idea, they wandered so."

"Did he make you drink more of that tea?"

"Yes. At every meal, and sometimes even in between. The taste grew no better with time, but he would not let me refuse it."

"It was filled with poppies," Fili said, "to cloud your mind. He must have feared you would not have come with him otherwise."

"He was right," Kili said with a sigh. "I would not have gone." Then he frowned. "Though if he told me Thorin had ordered me to accompany him, I do not know if I would have argued. Fëor was tolerant of me speaking my mind, much more than Thorin is, but I do not think I would have pushed too hard if he insisted." He was silent for a few moments. "So, it _was_ all a lie, was it not? Thorin did not decide to send me off to a new _shemor_?"

"It was all a lie," Fili said firmly. "I have told you time and again, Thorin will never send you away. You should have seen him when we realized you were gone. He was quite frantic." This was a bit of exaggeration that Fili forgave himself for even as the words left his mouth. And anyway, in his own way, Thorin _had_ been frantic, even if frantic, for Thorin, was rather less frantic than for anyone else Fili had ever met. "After this I think you shall be lucky if he ever lets you leave the house again."

"I should deserve it if he does not," Kili said, rather gloomily. "To have caused so much trouble! I should not be surprised if they extend my sentence."

"I do not think it works that way. Getting kidnaped is no crime." At least, Fili was reasonably certain it was not, even for one who had already been convicted, though of course the laws dealt far harsher punishment on Kili than anyone else should he commit an actual crime with intent to flout the law. But though the rules were very strict, they were not entirely irrational. He said as much to Kili, who nodded morosely.

"I hope you are right," Kili said. He pulled listlessly at the twig, which appeared actually to be a bit of a root, quite firmly entrenched in the ground. "Did I see Mr. Balin here last night? I thought I did, but then this morning I thought I had just been confused or imagining things."

"You did see him. And Dwalin, and Glóin and Óin — well, I suppose he is right over there snoring, so that is no surprise — and Berlad and Esgin — Bergin's father and uncle. Esgin is Bergin's mother's brother, and he was wounded last night, but Óin says he shall be fine with a little stitching up — and Bekka, you must know him, he and his brother tend to the horses in town, and Bifur. The Urs are newly arrived from the south. Bifur has an axe in his head and doesn't speak, but he can sing, which is quite strange, really. He uses Iglishmek to talk, so he shan't be able to speak with him unless he is of a mind to sing." (Fili did not think this was going to be a concern. Most dwarves would not speak directly with Kili unless there was no other choice, and the Urs seemed to be more superstitious than most; why Bifur even came along on this trip was a bit of a mystery, though perhaps he just sought to ingratiate himself with Thorin. It would not be the first time such a thing had happened.)

Kili stared at him for a few seconds in mute shock. "But that is ten dwarves."

"Indeed, it was quite an impressive rescue party. You should be quite pleased. I am not altogether sure Thorin could have rallied so many to rescue me, had it been me who was kidnaped."

"But _ten_."

"Yes," Fili said. "Ten. I am glad to see you have not had all the maths in your head replaced with turnips."

"Counting is not maths," Kili said peevishly.

Fili thwapped him on the arm, though he regretted it afterwards because there was no part of Kili that was not filthy, and Fili rather wished he had not touched him at all until he had bathed. "Of course counting is maths. It is the most basic sort of maths."

Kili looked doubtful, but he did not protest. He pulled at the root a little more, still having no luck dislodging it, and then he said, "Do you know, I think I asked Fëor if my new _shemor_ would let me study maths."

Fili blinked at him. "You thought you were being sent away and your biggest worry was maths? You are the most peculiar dwarf I have ever known."

"I was almost done with geometry," Kili said, in a rather mulish tone. "I was sad that I should not get to finish it."

"Again," Fili said, "you are the most peculiar dwarf I have ever known."

"I do not think it is so peculiar. I did not expect any other _shemor_ should be as lenient as Thorin, nor that there should be someone there who would be willing to teach me as you have," Kili said. "I was also sad that I should not get to finish mending the tear in your blue shirt, and that I had not yet had a chance to repair the fence around the vegetable patch."

Fili stared at him with narrowed eyes for a few moments. "You are joking," he accused. "Not even you could be sad about those things. You hate sewing, and it is all mud around the vegetable patch."

"It seemed very tragic at the time," Kili said, and his face was so serious Fili could not tell whether he meant it or not. But then Kili's expression cleared. "You have been up for quite a while but not yet eaten. Are you hungry?"

Fili was always hungry. But still, "Why, are you offering to cook me breakfast?"

"I do not think there is anything to cook," Kili said, "although I think I remember Fëor shooting some rabbits, so perhaps there is some meat."

"No, that was all eaten last night. We have been eating jerky for two days. Perhaps the others will hunt when they waken, and then we shall get a proper meal." Fili wrinkled his nose. "But smelling you will surely spoil everyone's appetite. There are some puddles around here. There should be enough water in them to get rid of the worst of the dirt."

Kili looked down at himself, frowning. His clothing was utterly fetid. "It will hardly do any good."

"Fëor brought your spare clothing. It must be in his pack. I will fetch it and bring it back. Hurry up and wash! I have only just gotten used to your stench, and if I leave and come back it will be horrid all over again, and once was quite enough for me."

Kili nodded obediently and set off for the closest puddle, while Fili dashed back to the campsite. Dwalin was still the only one awake, and he made his way carefully among the sleeping dwarves to Fili's side as Fili rummaged through Fëor's pack. "You were gone for a long time, lad."

"I was talking with Kili. Fëor tricked him as we thought. He feels very guilty for causing so much trouble."

"Hmm," Dwalin said, in a tone that made it impossible to discern what emotion lay behind it. He might have been talking about the weather. But then he asked, "He is all right, then?"

"Oh, quite all right from the looks of it, though he is very startled that all of you have come to rescue him. Did Fëor have another pack? I need Kili's extra clothing. Everything he has on is all over dirt and … other filth." He wrinkled his nose. "Believe me, we shall all be happier if he changes before coming back to the camp. He smells fouler than any cesspit. It is quite horrid."

Dwalin stood very still and silently for a moment. Then he grunted, and tossed a bag in Fili's direction. "Here," he said.

Fili dug deep inside the pack and indeed there was extra clothing, though most of it was Fëor's and looked quite ridiculously large. Fili held up a shirt to his chest; it went down nearly to his ankles. "I could wear this as a nightshirt," he said. "Perhaps I shall. Though I should have to have Kili shorten the sleeves. Oh! Here are Kili's extra trousers, and here is a shirt!" He beamed at Dwalin, who raised an eyebrow but did not otherwise respond. "Well, I shall get this to Kili, I suppose."

Dwalin grunted again. He pursed his mouth and shifted his feet, looking quite uncomfortable. "Tell him ... tell him I am relieved we were able to rescue him."

"I shall," Fili said, pleased (even though he did not think Kili would believe that Dwalin had truly expressed such a sentiment). Then he had a thought, and hopped lightly over Thorin (who grunted and rolled over, but did not awaken) to where his own pack lay on the ground. It took but a moment to dig out the stone that Nithi had given him for Kili, and he tucked it carefully away in his pocket. His fingers brushed against one more wrapped and rather misshapen package, which startled him for he had quite forgotten he had brought it with him. With a furtive look at Dwalin, who was paying him no attention whatsoever, he tucked the second package away in a different pocket and then dashed out of the camp back to the privy, clothing clutched tightly in his hand.

Oin was still asleep, which Fili thought was fortunate. A few paces away, Kili was stripped down and assiduously rubbing at his arms with what looked to be a wet clump of moss. "I do not think this is working," he said, wrinkling his nose. "Now I smell of moss. It is not much better."

"It is most certainly better. But not smelling of moss would have been better still. I did not tell you to use plants for a washcloth," Fili said, clambering lightly over rocks and tree stumps.

"There was no other way," Kili said. "The dirt was caked on and would not come off. I think the first thing I shall do when we get home is have a soak in the tub." He paused, and smiled just a bit, which was somewhat the same as if Fili had been dancing a jig. "I did not think I should ever see Ered Luin again, you know. I am quite happy to have been wrong."

"I too am quite happy you were wrong. I feared we should not find you in time," Fili said. He made himself comfortable on the ground. "I have clean clothing for you, and two surprises."

Kili stopped in the middle of dunking a foot in a pool of muddy water. He looked a little startled, then narrowed his eyes. "Are these the kind of surprises I shall like, or the kind I shall not?" There had been very few of the former in his life, and very many of the latter. (Most of these poor surprises had been from Fili, so at least they had not been not _so _very unpleasant — or so Fili hoped.)

"Oh," Fili said, "you have just survived a kidnaping! I would not be so cruel as to give you a surprise you will not like. Come on, then, that is more than enough. Now you are just spreading the mud around. That is as clean as you shall get without a proper bath. Get dressed and come sit down."

Kili did as he was bade. He looked much better in clean clothing, and the stench that clung to him had at least receded to something nearly tolerable. Seated on the ground, he looked at Fili just a touch apprehensively, but held himself still. "I am also quite happy you are returning to Ered Luin," Fili said. "Otherwise who should do my laundry?" He grinned, just to show he did not really mean it, and then reached into his pocket and pulled out the rune stone. "Here," he said. "This is for you, from Nithi, Bergin's mother."

Kili's eyes went very wide, and he took the stone only hesitantly, as if he were afraid that Fili would take the stone back again. "What," he said, turning it over in his fingers, "what does it say?"

Kili had learned Common letters, but Balin had been very careful to never let him learn the runes for Khuzdul. Fili was not sure whether this was law or custom, but he did not think it any great loss to Kili, as everything Fili had ever read in Khuzdul had been intensely boring: mostly scrolls of very ancient history that he could not imagine being useful or interesting to anyone save Balin. (And perhaps not even Balin. More than once, Fili had caught him asleep, drooling onto an old yellowed scroll.) But runestones were in Khuzdul. "This side is safety," Fili said, pointing it out. "And the other is home."

Kili traced the carving in the stone reverently. "She does not even know me," he said. "I do not understand why she would gift me with such a precious thing."

It was not that valuable, for anyone with any skill at masonry could carve a rune into a stone, and most dwarflings were taught to polish stones when they were hardly out of swaddling clothes. Still, Fili supposed there was a difference between valuable and precious, and things that were not one could easily be the other. "She is quite marvelous," is all Fili said. "I should not have minded having someone like her for a mother." Then he paused, for this was treading rather close to topics he did not discuss with Kili. "Though Bergin does complain sometimes that she pulls him by his ear when he is too slow to move. Put the stone in your pocket and keep it safe. It works best if it is hidden." This was somewhat of a lie — well, in truth, it was entirely a lie — but Fili was not at all certain that Thorin would allow Kili to keep the stone if he knew about it; Thorin was unpredictable about such things. Best for both Kili and Thorin if it stayed a secret, Fili thought.

Kili rubbed the stone a little more then tucked it carefully away. He looked quite pleased to have received the little gift, and Fili felt a ridiculous wave of affection for him, that he should so cherish such a small thing.

Fili moved a little closer and lowered his voice then, and glanced furtively at Óin. "Are you ready for your second surprise?"

"It cannot be as nice as the first," Kili said stoutly.

"Not as pretty, certainly," Fili said, "but sweeter, I think." He reached carefully into his pocket and pulled out the second package, which was now even more lumpy and misshapen than before. "Here."

Kili unwrapped the package carefully, then raised his eyebrows in surprise at the two pastries that were revealed: one lemon, one poppy, both considerably less perfect than they had been when Fili had first gotten them, but still looking quite appetizing to Fili's hungry stomach.

"I got these for you at the festival," Fili said, whispering. "And when we left, I thought, well, I thought they should go to waste, if I left them just sitting in the kitchen. I promised you a lemon tart, do you remember?"

"I do," Kili said. He made no move to eat either pastry, though. "But I did not do the maths to earn it."

"That is no matter. I shall make you do the maths when we get home, and extra besides, if that will make you happier. But you must be hungry now. Last night it sounded as if you were throwing up everything you have ever eaten."

"I am hungry," Kili admitted. "But I thought. Well. I am not supposed to eat before the others, really."

"But I brought these tarts for you," Fili said, sidling closer and turning his body so that Óin, if he were to suddenly awaken, would not see anything but their backs huddled together. "And you are allowed to eat food that is meant for you."

"I suppose," Kili said doubtfully. "But you are hungry too. It does not seem right that I should eat, and you should wait."

Fili was very hungry. Moreover, he was quite determined that Kili should eat the tart, preferably before Óin woke up and saw them doing something that was not, perhaps, in exact compliance with the law. "Well then," he said. "There is a simple solution. I only promised you a lemon tart. So you shall eat the lemon, and I shall eat the poppy."

Kili chewed at his lip for a moment, looking anxiously over his shoulder at where Óin lay sleeping.

"It is not sharing," Fili said, in what he hoped was a soothing and confident manner. "It is no different to when we are at home, and you eat your breakfast after I have eaten mine, except that we shall be eating at the same time. You are allowed to eat the food I have brought you. I am quite certain of that." He was not in fact _entirely_ certain, for they were out of the house and all the rules were different, but he thought it could not be more than a minor infraction, at worst, and certainly it was no infraction at all if they finished eating before anyone else woke up and found them out.

Just to prove how certain and unconcerned he was, he reached for the poppy tart and took a great bite. It was a little stale, but he did not care in the slightest, for the moment it hit his tongue, he had to restrain himself from eating all the rest in one great bite. He made appreciative sounds as he chewed, quite purposefully.

The temptation apparently proved too great for Kili to resist, for he nodded, and took a bite of his own pastry, eyes fluttering closed in something like bliss. "It's very good," he whispered, around a mouthful of tart.

"It is," Fili agreed, taking another bite of his own. It was a shame he would have to eat the whole thing, and Kili would not get to try it at all, but there would be other festivals and other poppy tarts. He looked up at the summer sun peeking through the tree tops feeling almost perfectly content. All was not entirely well, for they still had a long journey home, and Thorin would have to decide what to do with Fëor, and then too there might yet be some punishment to accrue to Kili for the whole unfortunate mess. But Fili thought he might be able to convince Thorin that spending an entire night vomiting and on the toilet counted as punishment, and the weather was fine and the journey home might even be pleasant. Fili thought Kili would enjoy listening to Esgin singing bawdy songs, and hearing Bekka and Berlad arguing over the best path for a pony to take through the marshlands, and watching Bifur sign in fluid, extravagant Iglishmek even if he could not understand it. Yes, he decided, all in all, he was quite content.

He finished his tart and settled comfortably against a tree, carefully making sure they were no stray crumbs to give them away.

They were looking at the shapes of the clouds when Thorin came looking for them — lying flat on their backs now, pointing out what they could see through the branches, telling stories like they had when they were much, much younger and hadn't really understood that though they were playmates, they would never be equals. They must have been very young to not have known, Fili thought, eyes drifting sideways for just a moment, looking at Kili's face, strangely sharp in profile. He wondered if that was due to the worry of the past few days, even muted as it must have been by the poppies. Or perhaps that was just age that was doing that to him, stripping away the baby fat (not that Kili had ever been fat, at least not once he'd found his feet and started running) and leaving just the sharp lines of his cheeks and jaw, clearer than other dwarves' because of the lack of beard to soften them.

"Well," Thorin said, "I take it that your head has cleared, Kili, or else you have somehow infected Fili too. It has been a long time since you boys played this game."

"_Shemor_," Kili said, scrambling to his feet. "I am sorry. Fili said you were still asleep."

Thorin waved his hand. "Do not trouble yourself. I only just awoke, and I did not expect you to attend me after such a night as you had. I am glad to see you well, _nidoy_. Are you all recovered?"

Kili chewed at his lip. "I think I am no longer bespelled by the poppies. I- I am sorry I let Fëor trick me."

Thorin gazed him with a steady, level expression. "Did you have any cause to suspect of him treachery?"

Kili frowned. "Treachery ... no, I did not, but I-"

"Do you think that you," Thorin continued relentlessly, "a dwarfling not yet even of age, should be able to discern the secret motives of a warrior of the Dúnedain, when a dwarf as aged as I am could not?"

Now Kili grew a little pale. "No, of course not, _shemor. _I am not half so wise as you."

"Then do not blame yourself for failing to see what none of us suspected," Thorin said. "You were not the only one he fooled."

"Then you agree it is not his fault?" Fili said hopefully.

But Thorin scowled at him. "Fili, I begin to despair that you will ever learn when it is I desire your thoughts on a matter, and when you should keep them to yourself."

"But," Fili protested, "you just said Kili is not to blame himself for this!"

"Aye," Thorin said. "And he should not. But that does not mean the law will view the matter in the same light. You know it is often stricter than I would like. I cannot predict what the right answer is, and so I will not try. Balin will need to study the texts."

Fili frowned. Nothing good ever came of if when Balin studied the law texts, as he seemed only ever to find rulings that were even stricter than the norm.

"I would not worry about it," Thorin said. "There is nought to do about it now, and worrying about it will accomplish nothing but spoil an otherwise fine day. I would prefer to set my attentions to what is in front of me at the moment and celebrate our victory. Are you truly well, Kili? Fëor did not harm you beyond forcing poppies upon you?"

"He did not harm me," Kili said, "but that he lied, and now I must suspect all he ever told me of being false."

A flash of unease flickered through Thorin's eyes, and Fili thought of what Fëor had said of Kili's bloodline and his worth, things Kili might not have ever known or guessed at. "I do not think," Thorin said carefully, "that he is a dishonorable sort on the whole, but rather one who saw an opportunity he felt he could not overlook. I would not necessarily assume that every word he said to you was untruth."

"Perhaps not," Kili said, "but I cannot tell which of his words might have been true and which false, so how can I trust any of them? He would speak freely with me when we trained. He may have been feeding me lies all along to prepare me for this eventuality. He must surely have been planning it for some time."

"I am not so sure he planned it so very far in advance," Thorin said slowly. "Mayhap it was the case, but I think it equally likely that the idea occurred to him only lately. Certainly his plan was not well thought through, relying as it did on the expectation that we would not come after you."

Kili frowned at that but said nothing.

Thorin frowned too, his expression identical to Kili's, a resemblance Fili was starting to notice more and more despite his best efforts not to. Kin bonds could be severed but blood could not be hidden, though it made Fili uneasy to even think it. Such things were never commented on (except perhaps by Nithi, who seemed not to pay much heed to the customs around _khazd khuv_). "Fili has told me that you fear I shall send you away if you do not work hard enough."

Kili shot an appalled, betrayed look at Fili, who squirmed apologetically. Despite his lower status, Fili felt Kili was entitled at least to trust that his confidences would remain undisclosed, at least when his words could have no bearing on his duties or the safety of the household. "I only wanted him to understand," Fili mumbled, "that you would not have left on your own, that you had not run away."

"Run away," Kili repeated, brow furrowed. He looked at Thorin, confused. "No, I would not ... where should I go? I would need to find a new _shemor_, and I do not know how I should even begin to look for one. I do not think there are many dwarves who would be so generous as to take me in as you have, nor who would treat me as well."

Thorin went very still and quiet for a moment, his expression rather grim, almost stricken. He did not speak until his face was somewhat more composed, and then his voice was gentler than Fili could ever recall hearing. "Well," he said, "Fili tells me he has attempted to reassure you that I would not send you away, but that he could not ease your worries."

Kili looked briefly panicked. "I did not think you would ... but I know that sometimes I bring only trouble ... and of course you must do what you think best for Ered Luin, and I-"

Thorin held up a hand. "Be calm. I am not angry. There is no law that can stop you from being anxious as to your own circumstances, and I would never seek to tell you how you must feel about any particular thing. I only regret I have given you cause to worry for so long and that I have never noticed your concern about this matter. Perhaps if I say now what I should have told you long ago, you may rest a little easier." He bent down a bit to place his hands on Kili's shoulders, and looked him directly in the eyes. "I shall not send you away, _nidoy_, no matter how little work you do or how poorly you do it, no matter what difficulties it may bring me to have you in the house. That does not mean I do not expect you to work hard and to the best of your ability, but you should not fear that your place in our home is contingent upon your pleasing me."

Fili felt a twinge of some strong emotion at this, though he could not have said if it was pleasure or pride or even envy that Kili should receive such a declaration from Thorin, when Fili himself had never gotten such reassurance. He held his breath, loath to risk even accidentally breaking such an unusual moment.

Kili stared back at Thorin, eyes very wide. "Fëor said, he said that I was a burden to you, and that, that though you did not hate me for it, still it would be easier for you if I were gone away."

Thorin sighed and rubbed a hand over his eyes. "Then his wits are greater than I gave him credit for, for it takes a clever person to use the truth to speak lies." He straightened up and looked at Kili squarely. "Those things are all true," he said. "He said the same to me, that you were a burden, and I did not deny it, for it would be a lie to say otherwise. But I told him it is a burden I bear willingly, and I'm sure he did not tell you that."

Kili shook his head. "No, he did not."

Now Thorin looked at Fili too, and his face was quite serious when he turned back to Kili. "I am also sure he did not explain that you are hardly the only burden I bear," Thorin said, "nor even the most onerous. Fili too is a burden, and so is every dwarf in all the Blue Mountains, and the burden of kingship is greater still than all the others put together. It is true that my life would be easier if I did not have responsibility for you, but it should also be easier if I did not have responsibility for Fili or for anyone else, for then I would only have to be concerned with my own welfare. That," he said with a little sigh, "is a simple enough thing and easily handled."

Fili could no longer stay silent, for it seemed that though this conversation was largely about Kili, it had come to bear on him as well. "But if it is so much trouble to be king," he said, "why do you do it?"

Thorin laughed, though it did not sound as if he found the question especially humorous. "Why, someone must," he said, "and it has fallen to me, and so I do it. If we all gave up those responsibilities that were unpleasant and did only the things we enjoyed, then nothing unpleasant would ever get done. Besides, I am quite convinced that a king who wants nothing more than to be king should surely be a selfish one."

Fili fell silent, considering this. "If to be a good king, one must not want to do it, then I shall surely be a very good king."

Thorin laughed again, more genuinely this time. "You shall be a very good king indeed," he said, and cuffed Fili's ear.

Thorin's blows, even the most gentle of them, were none too gentle at all, and Fili yelped loudly enough to wake even Óin from his slumber (a not inconsiderable feat, as Óin's deafness made him difficult to rouse under even the best of circumstances). He then proceeded to shout at them for a few minutes, ascertaining that none of them had managed to injure themselves while he slept, and then spent a few more minutes looking Kili over a bit more thoroughly.

"Well," he said heartily,wrinkling his nose, "you've smelled better, lad, but I dare say that's the worst of it. Come, let's get all of us back to the camp and see if we can find something to eat that won't be too troublesome for your stomach. Tea and light foods only to start, I think."

Kili shot Fili a very guilty look, but did not confess to having already eaten a lemon tart (which could not, under even the most optimistic interpretation, be said to have been a light food, heavy and filled with honey as it was). He did look torn, though, and Fili thought that it was surely only his own insistence that it remain a secret that kept Kili quiet; or perhaps it was that Óin, though an adult, fell behind Fili in the list of those that Kili felt he owed obedience too.

Fortunately, Thorin did not notice Kili's unease, which prevented what would no doubt be a very uncomfortable conversation for Kili and Fili both. Cheered by the return of Thorin's usual obtuseness where the small details of daily life were concerned, Fili fell easily into step next to Kili as they started the short hike back to the camp. "I wonder if Fëor is awake," Fili mused. "I should not like to be Thorin now, but I should like to be Fëor even less."

"I do not think Thorin will kill him," Kili whispered back. "He does not look to be in such a terrible mood." This was true. Indeed,Thorin looked to be in an unusually fine mood, talking loudly to Óin about this and that, and waving his arms about rather grandly as he described his part in the battle of the previous night. (Which had not, to Fili's recollection, been such a grand part as all that, for he thought he remembered it having been Dwalin who had struck Fëor in the belly, but he would not say so to Thorin, as there were few enough opportunities for Thorin to wield his sword, and fewer still to brag about it.)

"Well, he will have to do something with him," Fili whispered back. "And I'm sure it will not be pleasant. Perhaps he will cut out his tongue, as Dwalin suggested."

"Cut out his tongue!" Kili looked horrified. "How should he talk? Or eat? Better he should take a hand." Then he blanched. "I hope Thorin does not take his hand either."

Fili looked at him sideways. "Do not feel sorry for him. He tried to take you away from us. Any punishment he gets, he has brought upon himself."

Kili frowned at this, but didn't say anything. He trudged along, kicking fitfully at the ground.

Well, this would not do at all. Kili was often anxious and rarely very happy, but he was not injured, and ten dwarves had come to rescue him, and there had been no real harm done to him in the end. And then too, it was a fine, fine summer day, and they had days ahead of them to make the trip back to Ered Luin, at a slower and more comfortable pace, and perhaps Kili would get to practice shooting from a pony, if Thorin were in a fine enough mood. No, it would not do for Kili to be hunched and unhappy. "Do you see space between the branches of that tree?" Fili said lazily, pointing up.

Kili looked, squinting his eyes a bit and tilting his head. "Why, it is a triangle," he said.

"I told you geometry was all around you," Fili said, "if you have but eyes to see it."

Kili stared at the tree a little bit longer, even turning around to gaze at it as they passed it by. Then he smiled, just a little bit. "So you did," Kili said. "So you did."

* * *

_"In mathematics you don't understand things. You just get used to them."_ \- John von Neumann

* * *

A/N: I hope you will all forgive me for the very lengthy delay in posting the final chapter. The entire story was actually completed (not betaed, but written) before I ever posted the first chapter. But then by the time I posted chapter 5 it became clear to me I needed a Thorin section at the end, so I had to write that. And then poor SapphireMusings got very sick, and then work got crazy for both of us, and so here we are, an inexcusably long time later. I do apologize.

This is the end of this particular story (I think - I had a little more I'd like to have covered but it was just really more rambling; if I get inspired I'll turn it into something more polished) but still not the end of the saga. I think, I hope, that the next story to come will actually take place chronologically after The Thirteenth Dwarf. A sequel? An epilogue? We'll see how long it ends up being. (It's pretty long already.)

As always, thanks to SapphireMusings for her invaluable beta skills, and for donating the closing quote, which I adore. And thank you to everyone who took and takes the time to comment. It really does make my day and night. :D

P.S. Full disclosure: I was a math major in college and I'm still a math geek now. (Just in case you were wondering what's with all the math.) I'm a Kili sort of mathematician: geometry never made any sense to me at all. But algebra and calculus and all of that? Joy!


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